Philosophy in Monochrome
by dekw
Summary: The odd satori met on top of the mountain always seems to want to slide out of memory, as if the mind believes that it's just a false memory. To one Marisa Kirisame, this means that Koishi Komeiji is definitely worth remembering. By some coincidence, they meet again, and Marisa can't forget that, either.
1. Chapter 1 - Surprise in Two

Marisa Kirisame gave a small grin as she inspected a new growth.

It was a mushroom, which was not altogether uncommon in the Forest of Magic, and it seemed to be a new strain.

Her experimentation being what it was, the prospect of any new specimen was always exciting – both in procedure and result. Whether that meant she would need a new recipe or a new house... well, either way, it was fun, in its own particular way.

She left it for now, marking its location as only she would – _right, left, through the wrong turn, up, left, right, past that tree but not the other one_ – in her mind. In the case that it was a new strain, she didn't want to inadvertently extinct it.

She stood, now on the lookout for any other mushrooms that looked the same.

"Hi!"

And then she jumped. Not because she was surprised, or because she hadn't noticed the person behind her, but because she was surprised _that she was surprised._

Being in inopportune places at all the wrong times, Marisa Kirisame could respect. She could respect it to the point that her reaction to somebody else pulling it off was somewhere between acceptance and rivalry.

But somebody had entirely slid past any clever narrative, any joke, and just… been there. All along?

Wait, who _was_ that?

"Whatcha doing?"

Marisa paused for a moment, and laughed out loud as she smashed cognitive dissonance aside in her own head.

Koishi Komeiji was the name, and the witch remembered her very clearly. She was next to impossible to remember, naturally sliding out of memory as anything more than the concept of Satori Komeiji's younger sister.

Marisa, however, was nothing if not insane, and had therefore made an absolute point of remembering what her mind clearly wanted to drop – if it was that incomprehensible, it _had_ to be important. As such, Koishi was clear in her memory. She'd even written down the things she wanted to forget!

Koishi laughed back, and then hovered into the air, leaning back on nothing discernable, and Marisa took back her train of thought to answer.

"Experimenting!"

"What with?"

Koishi pointed to the mushroom that Marisa had been inspecting a moment ago, and then raised an eyebrow. "Oops."

Marisa, on the other hand, was a fraction of a second behind pointing in response to the earlier question. "Oops? Wha…"

"You answered the question before you answered the question."

"You just stole my answer! You can't just steal things from a thief like that!"

"You're really random!" Koishi giggled, and drifted past the witch. "You _feel_ your thoughts before you say them, sometimes. What's the word Sis used… Impulsive!"

Marisa took about a tenth of a second to regain her composure. Insanity was, in her opinion, mandatory. "I'm not impulsive!"

"And you _lie_ before you think. How do you _do_ that?" Koishi was now upside down, as far as Marisa could tell.

Taking a moment to conceal her thoughts by, well, thinking them through, Marisa put her facts together, ignoring the whine of her memory trying to forget anything about the girl floating around her.

Koishi was a Satori, a species generally loathed for their third eye, which allowed them to read minds. For reasons mostly unknown, Koishi had sealed her own third eye, and in doing so had gained abilities relating to the subconscious. What those were, Marisa couldn't tell – it seemed Koishi had just as well stopped reading her own mind when she explained things.

But piecing things together, it seemed like…

"I'm reading your instinct? Well, you'll need to think about what you really think and what you just think without thinking, if you know what you mean."

"If _I_ know what I—" _Damn_ it. This was going to take a while to get used to. It was weird.

It was weird enough that _Marisa Kirisame_ was going to take a while to _get used to it_. The hell?

Well, she was who she was. Only in her own mind could she actively choose a random thought to be what she would impulsively decide, free of legitimate subconscious impulse.

In a motion that was altogether awkward – any natural motion was, in her opinion, going to mark a failure – she swiped the hat from Koishi's head. How did it even stay on while she was floating like that, anyways?

A giggle from Koishi made her look, to find out they'd switched hats. Neither fit particularly well.

"Your hat is funny. Can I have mine back?"

"Give me mine back first."

"What?" The switch had already happened.

Okay, this was just silly. Marisa was a little conflicted – on one hand, someone so effortlessly getting the best of her in such a random manner was a challenge she couldn't just back down from. On the other hand, it was exactly the kind of chaos she enjoyed.

"So what were you doing with the mushrooms?"

Marisa sighed, and finally settled on a straight answer. "Just gathering up some for experiments. I wanted to try something new."

"Whatcha trying?"

"That's a secret! Until it's not. Then it's a result!"

"What's special about the new one, then?" Koishi's face was either too easy to read, or impossible. You couldn't write innocent emotions more plainly in an expression if you tried. Conversely, Marisa wasn't yet sure whether the emotions she showed had any correlation with anything.

Either way, Marisa answered.

"Well, there's a new strain of mushroom, which is always interesting, because that's three or four new qualities for experiment ammo which you've got to figure out – they could be stronger, they could be more volatile, they could produce new compounds with anything else which is as recursive as it sounds and therefore exactly as much fun at minimum, and new compounds can be mixed for new compounds if they don't oversaturate any part of the mix, and—"

"I dunno what you're talking about, but it's exciting and I want you to keep going."

"Huh?"

"I don't know anything about mushrooms, but you're excited about this and it's fun that you're excited. I can feel it!" Koishi jumped upwards in midair, again making a mockery of sense.

Marisa grinned. This was worth getting used to.

＊ ＊ ＊

(Black white(Monochrome(two)) Witch) Marisa Kirisame! She remembered!

Nobody (Nobody!) remembered her. That might be sort of sad, but why?

Well, people thought it was sad. Sis (Satori (Third eye(Still without sense)) Komeiji) remembered her too. Sis wasn't happy, was she?

Was she? (Who knows? (What's knowing?))

Sad was okay (or not okay, but okay in not okay) because she didn't feel it. Everything came, everything went (But not the witch?)

Kirisame (black-white) remembered her when people didn't. No memory is sad (whatever sad means) so that would be happy (happy more than fun?)

Actual thought! She should drop by again (would she still remember(it was fun anyways(again, again!))).

 _I wonder if she'll be back again._ Kirisame (Marisa(Witch)) pre-thought.

Now she was upside-down (maybe). Probably. Maybe.

＊ ＊ ＊

For the first time in… well, for the first time she could remember, Marisa Kirisame was interested in dwelling on the past. Not because she was actually interested in the past, let alone spending time in it, but because she now had a host of memories with a person that her mind was still trying to slide out of her perception.

It had been mildly tricky to hold on to her first memory – it had been an interesting duel, but it was one spell card battle after a lot of spell card battles, after the main resolution of an incident. Even though she'd written each card and her thoughts about them down with the rest – it was her grimoire, after all – it was still easy to forget the person behind them.

Now… well, now it was different. Her memory might still have wanted to push Koishi out of perception, but what had happened had been entirely unique, in a chaotic way the witch couldn't see anybody else offering. What happened had both been exceptional, and defining of Koishi's character, and that meant that the experience – which would not itself slide out of memory – was clearly defined.

Marisa wondered what story her mind would make up if she could somehow forget the person involved, and it was one of those irritating curiosities, being that its fulfillment would have a price. One, she thought, which she wasn't particularly willing to pay – not yet, at least.

Her mind still dwelling on the earlier events, she scribbled down some quick notes on the new strain of mushroom, filing them away into a disorganized pile of paper that only she could ever navigate.

That still left a few hours in her day, and she took a moment to decide what else to do – she was always pretty active, in one way or another. Most of the indeterminate free time was devoted to bothering people – through theft or otherwise – and today didn't seem to be an exception.

Today, she decided, would be relatively low-key for the remainder – she'd just go bother Alice, who was both close enough and relatively used to Marisa's many, many shenanigans. She paused a moment, still a little distracted by how unusual the earlier interaction had been, and then grabbed her broom, leaving her mess of a house behind.

＊ ＊ ＊

"Then don't "borrow" anything!"

Alice sighed, somewhere between amused and frustrated – a feeling Marisa inspired with little exception.

Something was slightly off. Alice was never sure where the genesis of her attention to detail was – whether it was in puppetry or spells, or whether her eye for unwritten patterns had drawn her to it.

That attention to detail, to small unwritten patterns, now told her that something was different. Marisa, while entirely herself in her antics and irritating habits, was… ever so slightly distracted. There seemed to be a tiny cognitive reserve, where usually whatever she was interested in was absolute, for the moment. Her mind went from topic to topic in an insane rollercoaster, but each moment of attention was usually complete.

It wasn't the first time she had ever seen Marisa at less than full capacity, but it was a rare occurrence, and she noted it. Ammunition was rare, and something about the speed and thoroughness with which Marisa squirmed, denied, and then recovered on the rare times she was caught off guard just made it worthwhile.

 _What_ exactly had caught her mind, on the other hand, would take a while to even guess at.

Alice sighed. Even as she gathered data to gain the upper hand, she still felt like she'd merely been dragged down to the witch's level.

This wasn't, at least, a particularly new feeling.

＊ ＊ ＊

Marisa found herself stumped, which always lead to frustration. She knew what exactly was unusual about Koishi. She knew why she was keeping her mind on it, seeing as failure to do so would be to lose the memory. She knew why, at base, she wanted to hold on to it – because she was a contradictory, insane, Ordinary Magician and would be damned if she let her mind do just whatever it wanted.

But it was still distracting, and it was still captivating. And the fact that this wasn't just a casual, disjointed fact about her own take on things, to be used, played up, lied about, or brought about for amusement, was annoying, because something that _meant_ something to her that she didn't have a complete choice in… well, it was a vulnerability ill-suited to insanity. And she _liked_ insanity.

She could tell why it would stick the way it did. Koishi was so patternless, there was nothing to predict, no natural conclusion to call and dismiss as losing its novelty. She didn't know if the satori would show again tomorrow, or the day after, or if she'd remember anything in any meaningful sense. And it made sense, because what a patternless, unique entity would do next was inherently interesting.

Did she _want_ her to show again? Well, that was dangerous thought, but the introduction of a new level and kind of chaos was something she could earnestly hope for. What she couldn't? Well, there were a _lot_ of things on that list.

Thankfully, going on entirely stupid trains of thought for inane lengths wasn't on that list. Without a rapid, ever-changing train of thought at a hopeless speed, it would take effort to confuse people, or leave them behind… or, well, to be Marisa Kirisame.

It was late. And also dark out. Marisa, against the image she gave, tended to get a decent amount of sleep – it was hard to remain entirely active without at least a few hours. Not, at least, without missing a beat, which was something that she felt was important.

Years of de facto training had allowed her to sleep, even as her endless trains of thought ran from subject to subject, in a way that made sense to her and only her. She took a glance out her window and the stars, laid back, and allowed sleep to coincide with her many, many idle thoughts.


	2. Chapter 2 - Rise, Upside-down

Marisa woke up with a start, a mischievous grin habitually on her face.

She always woke with a start – if it wasn't automatic, she leapt out of bed before she had the chance to think. Slow mornings were not her style, and having lived through a couple, she'd decided that she'd had enough of them for a lifetime.

And so, she was quick to leave bed, quick to get dressed in her signature outfit, and quick to head out.

＊ ＊ ＊

Marisa had two lines of thought going. One urged to check on the new strain of mushroom again – it seemed as if the mutation might have been magical in nature, which would make for a particularly interesting class of reagent. The second train of thought was, of course, to wonder whether Koishi would show up again.

"'Maybe not, though, she doesn't seem very consistent."

And there she was, reading a thought before Marisa had parsed it herself. That was, in fact, the _only_ time she could read thoughts. The closing of her third eye had, interestingly, left her more of an inverse Satori than a human or youkai. Shrugging internally, Marisa replied.

"I was wondering if you were gonna show up," she said, grinning.

"You were fun the last time!" Koishi jumped a little on her feet, floating into the air in a way that didn't really look like flying. It was, if Marisa was being honest with the only person she was ever honest with – herself – adorable in its childish innocence.

She found herself being rather pointed on that thought, not particularly wanting to show it to Koishi. Marisa Kirisame was only starry-eyed or genuinely appreciative with regards to the insane, and a very specific brand of insane, at that.

"So were you!" She replied, turning to face nobody and immediately choosing to roll with it.

From behind her, Koishi giggled, and floated into her field of vision. She was upside down, and Marisa noted that her hat remained entirely in place. That was a trick she'd have to figure out.

"Now gimme my direction back, I need to look down." Marisa turned to the side, and found herself looking down. Well, close enough.

Setting aside the casual chaos of Koishi's presence, she knelt to inspect the new strain. It had, as she'd predicted, spread. What it also seemed to have done, on the other hand, was grown in potency. The odd streaks had brightened, not quite to a glow, but close.

Marisa carefully picked one, pocketing it for later use, and left the rest to continue growing. On one hand, they might spread, which would be awesome. On the other hand, if they grew in power rather than scope, they might have enough power to, well, cause an incident. Which would be _awesome_. After that, she turned to Koishi, noting that she wasn't off this time, and grinned.

"So, whatcha out here for? Didn't seem to me like you'd visit the same place twice."

" _Is_ it the same place?" Koishi looked genuinely puzzled for a moment, and then the expression altogether disappeared. If it was hard to believe that somebody could simply live without conscious thought, Koishi certainly made a strong case for it. "You're different each time…"

"Each of two times! Maybe there's only two of me."

Koishi giggled; she was childlike in her amusement. "But _you_ only see one of you, so you didn't make another, right?"

"Maybe I made too many to remember."

"Like that?" Marisa caught herself before leaping back – she was face to face with herself, like a mirror. She blinked for a moment, trying to confirm what was happening, and there was nothing. Was that her subconscious imagination? The image of what she thought of herself before she could really mean to see it?

Whatever it was, it was a neat trick. Koishi, it seemed, had a lot of neat tricks – all smoke and mirrors without any smoke and mirrors. Smoke that you couldn't see, and mirrors that reflected what you thought you'd see.

Marisa realized she'd gotten lost in thought. "Well… something like that."

"A liiiittle bit uneasy…" Koishi seemed entirely focused on something else now. Marisa ignored the odd analysis and grinned.

"Maybe a little. Keeps me on my toes!"

"But you fly everywhere!"

"Reeeaaally light on my toes…" Marisa laughed, and Koishi responded in kind. "What'd you mean 'different', anyway?"

Koishi looked puzzled. "Can't remember. I do, but I can't. Oh well!" with a small shrug, she drifted into the air, looking entirely out of place as she often did.

It was rather suiting, Marisa thought. When effortless flight entered the equation, posture and form became largely irrelevant, but to fly completely distinctly from one's bodily motion – or lack thereof – still defied people's unrealized expectations. It was off-putting in a way nobody thought about, which… summed her up in a single sentence.

But there was more to her than that, of course. What was so odd was that it seemed impossible to tell _what_ more there was.

"You're heading back now." Koishi floated past her, now lounging on an invisible cushion in the air.

"Yep. You wanna come? I'm just going to see what this thing can do."

And now, Marisa found herself distinctly uneasy. She'd offered to drag Koishi along – which was chaotic and welcoming enough – but she'd done so without any arbitrary deceit or difficulty, which was unlike herself. Honesty and ease of companionship? Where was Marisa Kirisame and what she done with her?

Koishi, now on the ground, took a step back and looked into the distance. "Hmm…"

"Whatcha think?" Marisa, on the other hand, could do nothing if not regain her mental footing on a moment's notice. "It might be awesome. Or explosive. Probably both!"

"I dunno! You should do. I'll see."

"Suit yourself!" Marisa hopped onto her broom – admittedly a matter of style – and glanced back, finding it hard to believe that she'd ever seen Koishi. This, of course, all but proved that Koishi had been there, and Marisa set off at her own, dangerous velocity.

＊ ＊ ＊

Black and white(Kirisame(Marisa))…

Some doubt (can't remember(pain)), but always up (down, then up) and ready (nobody could be ready(but she pretended so well) for that). She asked a question (prying(wondering) but not) and Koishi (her(self)) couldn't remember (the question(the answer(but something always remembers))).

She was wandering (Marisa(Kirisame)'s house) in a direction (she didn't know which (but she did)).

"Alright, welcome to my house!"

Koishi was inside, Black-white was outside. She (one of them) had opened the door, walked, and closed it (mind doesn't know (what a circle is) how to go straight).

Little laughter (always fun(always nice)) from her (Komeiji(Younger)). "Can I come in?" Her (not witch(sometimes hard to tell) in speech).

"Who says I'm not in?" Marisa(Kirisame) improvising (but she was right(she understood?) to guess).

"Nobody! But that's a lot of people." Koishi laughed (meaning lost(but it didn't matter)).

 _Could I understand her? Huh._

Thought (not hers) before thought (closed eye(always)). Weird thought (fear(disappointment(risk(of what?)from what?)). Feeling, not thinking (that was always how(hard to remember).

The witch (black-white Kirisame(Marisa)) was inside now (she didn't mean to be (Koishi(she(self)) did).

Marisa was very interested (lots of things). Koishi liked to share (interested, but not knowing (feeling, but not thought(Koishi Komeiji)).

＊ ＊ ＊

It wasn't actually hard to keep track of Koishi when she was focused on something, and for some reason, she seemed to share Marisa's odd focus on her experiments. It seemed as if, without any of the knowledge or groundwork behind it, Koishi simply shared the feeling of fascination.

Marisa grabbed a couple of her rarer catalysts for this experiment. She'd never seen concentrated magic strains make a mark on anything organic before, so she wanted to test at as great a potential as she could. One ingredient after another – the process was mechanical, automatic to her. She could do it without—Koishi passed her the next ingredient—thinking.

Without thinking. _Of course._ One ingredient after another, and eventually the recipe was nearing completion. Marisa wasn't actually sure how much Koishi had helped with, but if she understood correctly, there was no risk of error in Koishi's help more so than existed with her own reflex.

Reflex, after all, was what she _could_ read. Like intuition for intuition, in some odd sense.

At any rate, there was only one step left.

Marisa grinned. "Well… it's time for _magic_." With a quick gesture, she tossed her own spell into the mix.

 _Ow hold on a second wait wh—_

＊ ＊ ＊

Marisa's orientation took a bit to follow her consciousness, and it seemed like it took a full half a minute to realize that she was laying in grass and dirt, not the floor of her own house.

Her house, remarkably far in the distance, had a distinct hole in it. Marisa, ever a magician and ever detached from conventional sanity, made a point of measuring the distance she had been thrown before standing.

"Well, that was fun!" Koishi made herself apparent, laying back on the grass as if she was taking a nap and nothing of note had happened.

"Toldja it'd be awesome," Marisa said, getting back on her feet. Despite explosive force being what it was, there were a few remarkable things about this particular case. For one, the house was still standing – the force seemed more like a focused backlash. For two, compared to standard experimental issues, it was really, really strong.

Shaking off the last of her dizziness, Marisa went back towards her house, disregarding the issue of the hole in her wall in favor of analyzing the impact.

It became pretty clear that the mixture itself hadn't been particularly unstable on a large scale – the inside of her home was relatively unharmed, aside from some scattered notes displaced by her exit. If anything, there'd been magical backlash to the spell she'd contributed as the last ingredient. Although it hadn't been complex or powerful, there were countless factors that could have lead to a forceful reaction. That would also explain why Koishi seemed to be entirely unscathed.

As if to emphasize that particular point, Koishi drifted by, floating sideways in defiance of any conventional posture.

"What're you gonna do now?"

"Figure out how to do that again!" Marisa grinned; she wasn't kidding. "…how long was I out for, anyways?"

"Dunno!" Koishi did a little flip in the air. "It's getting darker, though."

Marisa paused for a moment, not at the time she'd lost but at the fact that Koishi had made a statement that was simply and objectively true. If she was being honest, that would have to happen eventually by mere chance… but it was still off-putting.

"Yeah… well, maybe if I can _aim_ it next time..."

"Then you could make a hole in Reimu's shrine?" Marisa didn't know if Koishi really remembered Reimu – a friend she'd known for that long was no doubt relevant beneath conscious thought.

"Maaaaybe," Marisa said, grinning. "Maybe I won't even be the bullet!"

"That doesn't seem like your style…"

"It's in my style as long as it's done with _love_ ~" Koishi laughed, again upside-down for no discernable reason.

And again, of course, with the staying hat. Marisa sighed, and again allowed some honesty through for practical purposes.

"Well, I should probably fix the hole before I sleep, and it's getting late anyways." She shrugged. "Do you have anywhere to be?"

"Dunno! But you should sleep, right?"

"I don't need that much."

"Not sometimes!" Marisa grinned – it was becoming habit to respond to Koishi's odd nonsense with an improvisation of knowledge or silly acceptance – Koishi herself seemed to have an odd appreciation, and Marisa felt it was good practice. Somebody who could call your thoughts before you had them was good practice for remaining properly insane, at least.

Koishi waved, and with that, was not and had not been there for a while. It was almost becoming reflex to reassure herself that Koishi was where her memory tried to block out. Marisa wondered just what would happen when the reflex to remember what her mind refused to became just that – reflex. Hopefully, she'd get to find out.

With a sigh, she turned to face the hole in the wall. It wasn't too hard to fix – Marisa Kirisame was, against her appearance, not incompetent with simple magic for repair and maintenance. She was just _bored_ with it. Either way, she needed to sleep tonight.

＊ ＊ ＊

Marisa found herself almost stuck on her thoughts. Koishi seemed to flirt the edge of fear when it came to any deeper interest in her, although it was always hard to tell – trusting one's instinct was also questionable with regards to the odd Satori who seemingly manipulated it at random.

Still, the witch had begun to notice slight tells, even while her memory wanted to ask who she was referring to. Koishi was not, at heart, a great liar – she just let go of everything so quickly that one couldn't scrutinize any lie or individual thought. As such, when she had small reactions – tiny changes in expression, difference in nonsensical posturing – to instincts or thoughts still unprocessed, it showed. The form it showed it still seemed random at best, but it was different from the blank cheer she offered otherwise.

Tomorrow, she thought, she might drag Koishi along on a more involved part of her routine. Tonight, on the other hand, was at sleeping point, and Marisa slowly drifted off, lost as ever in her own thoughts.


	3. Chapter 3 - There, but not Here

Marisa woke up slightly tired, this morning, but quickly shook it off. She was insane and carefree to any onlookers, yes, but it ruined the nature of both if she spent hours half-asleep at the start of the day.

First thing was first – figure out the aftermath of the experiment, now that it had had some time to settle. Once forces and results were assessed – as they had been – it was time to figure out exactly what made said results tick.

The ingredients in the mixture had actually formed a solution, rather than separate. The mushroom itself had mostly dissolved, but the mixture itself seemed potent. Marisa was almost tempted to fire the same spell into it to see if it still burst, but decided against it.

Instead, she tried a number of small, experimental spells – tiny, invisible forces and spells with feedback that told her things about the nature of a material – all spells she wouldn't be caught dead admitting she'd put together herself, of course. She was a thief, after all – it was a matter of pride to only parade around spells that were stolen. Some gave feedback, others didn't, and Marisa jotted down notes so messily that only she could read them.

Scribbling down one last half-sentence, she fired the next spell, and her house rumbled for a moment.

 _Alright, so that one's got something to it._

… _Oh._

Marisa opened a door and promptly left her own house, leaving the door as wide open as possible as the mixture began to emit smoke entirely too thick to see through.

That was usually a sign of a mixture losing power, which she had once taken as a cue to test everything she could.

The lesson learned from that, of course, was that once something is leaking magic left and right, it was at its _most_ volatile and potentially explosive, and therefore provided you with the cue to get somebody _else_ to shoot at it. Preferably without knowing just what.

Maybe if it kept on smogging everything up, Reimu'd come by to check. Either way, it was a good cue to get out of the house.

＊ ＊ ＊

Marisa had a feeling, which was a little complicated. Now in the forest, she was waiting on Koishi, and she had a feeling that having a feeling that Koishi would show up meant Koishi had a feeling that she would show up, which meant that Marisa had a feeling Koishi would show up.

The thought process was a bit too ugly to be called circular, but it was certainly a loop lacking in any real sense or fact – something that suited Marisa just fine, as a thought. And probably Koishi, too.

"I think so…"

Yep, her too. "Yo!" Marisa waved, and Koishi waved back from behind her, which she saw while looking ahead, somehow. Honestly, it was kind of fun to constantly have your own brain guessing what could possibly be true and what was total nonsense – Marisa tried her best to inflict such a feeling on anyone she was at all fond of, but never quite got the hang of tripping herself up to complete the act.

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing. Yet." Marisa grinned. "Just sharing with the forest!" she added, thinking about the sheer volume of smoke she'd left her house producing.

"Where am I going?"

"I dunno. Wanna come with?"

"Sure!" Koishi made a small excited jump into the air, and drifted entirely the wrong direction for the drift she made. Marisa hopped on her broom, and Koishi had been standing on the tip of its handle all along.

Not to be offput or delayed by somebody entirely blocking her vision, Marisa immediately ramped up her speed, heading upwards and out of the forest. Koishi swayed in the wind, but somehow retained her completely impractical footing.

Until she'd been behind Marisa the entire time, of course. It was interesting, watching memory try to justify one person having been in more than one place all along.

Picking up speed, Marisa headed towards the Misty Lake, heading towards the Scarlet Devil Mansion to attempt a standard burglary. Going at altogether irresponsible speeds, it didn't take very long to get there.

Landing just outside the mansion, Marisa made a show of being sneaky, entirely for the fun of it. Sometimes she came crashing through a window – it was all a matter of impulsive preference in the moment.

She snuck up to the gate, beside Meiling… past Meiling… right next to Meiling? What?

She looked over, and Koishi was mimicking her crouched sneaking posture. Apparently, the effort had extended to… actually being completely sneaky? Watching Koishi run circles around a square in the mind's eye was one thing, but being in her invisible, impulsive, bizarre shoes was entirely another.

She waved a hand in front of Meiling, who bolted to attention and looked the wrong way. Koishi giggled, and then broke into small fits of laughter, and Marisa took the time to drop a low-grade magical explosive before moving on.

There was some low-key commotion in the mansion when it went off, and was audible from inside. None of the fairies staffing the mansion appeared to notice Marisa at all… except when she stopped pretending to sneak.

Starting again, she noticed, not only escaped their vision, but left them convincingly deciding that whatever they'd seen must have been nothing. It was an amazing trick good for countless laughs, but it was still disconcerting how… _easy_ it was.

Either way, Marisa knew the way – to the library, and made her way there posthaste.

＊ ＊ ＊

Patchouli Knowledge was, as she almost always was, unimpressed. She was, however, slightly confused.

Marisa had burst into the library as per usual, but there'd been no telltale warning sign – and Patchouli knew her library so well that she could tell by the sound of footsteps where precisely somebody was inside it. Magic itself was easy to sense – it was as if she'd let her guard down without ever realizing it.

Nonetheless, the blatant, thieving witch was here, and was being somewhat… off-putting now.

"You… you really can't see?" She managed, between bursts of laughter.

"You are an appreciably small fraction of my age, and _that_ is what you expect to work on me?"

Marisa started laughing harder. Patchouli was, admittedly, disconcerted at this. While Marisa was an unrepentant cheat who could manufacture any lie in exactly the same manner that she presented impractical truths, her laughter was so impractically debilitating and so arbitrary that it was hard to believe it wasn't in response to something.

"You can't! You—you actually—" Marisa lost her sentence with laughter again. Patchouli, against her better judgement, bothered to look behind herself, and instantly recognized that a number of books were out of—wait. That title didn't _match_ it's—

Patchouli shook her head, now beyond unsettled. Her library – massive as it was – was completely within her reflexive knowledge. Everything had its place – and not only was something out of order, but she couldn't tell _what._

She turned on Marisa, now actually quite annoyed. "What. Did. You. _Do._ "

"It wasn't me!" She said, raising her hands in defense. "I'm not lying—well, okay, I could be, and I would be if it _was_ me, but it… it…" she started laughing again, and Patchouli palmed a spell card, already considering whether the collateral would be worth avoiding spending any more time outwitted by one incoherent Marisa Kirisame.

Before she could come to a decision, however, something poked her sides.

＊ ＊ ＊

Patchouli _squeaked_.

Marisa had not, in fact, heard anything like this before. Patchouli Knowledge was easy to frustrate, and seemed to hold a casual contempt for just about anything that wasn't a part of her library, but genuine shock was entirely outside of her range of emotion.

She always, always knew if one extra person had so much had taken a single step in her library, not to mention where from and probably who it was. Maybe outside of her domain, this intrinsic awareness didn't exist, but, well, "outside".

Koishi, as such, was a complete novelty, and Marisa's only regret now was that she couldn't offer even a single word of sarcastic commentary – she was laughing so hard that air was beginning to seem like an extremely valuable commodity.

Patchouli, on the other hand, was all over the place. From shock, to shock at _being shocked_ , to being clearly creeped out at the thought of _anything_ wrong with her perception of her library… to embarrassment at the entirely unlikely sound she'd just made…

To a completely nonplussed expression at the now-apparent Koishi.

She grabbed Marisa by the collar of her outfit, and Marisa was still laughing too hard to help it, even though it was Patchouli of all people starting to throttle her.

" _Who is that?"_

"Somebody you don't know how to feel about!" Koishi said, hopping in place.

Patchouli raised her hand in response, and fell short of actual articulation – another thing Marisa was entirely unused to.

"Geez, you know this place so well that moving one book was confusing…"

"Her name's—" Marisa laughed a bit, slowly regaining her breath. "Her name's Koishi."

"And precisely how did you _possibly_ encounter somebody that you can't notice, let alone favourably interact with?" Patchouli's expression was still incredulous, and it made it hard for Marisa not to continue laughing hysterically.

"Well, if you can't notice somebody, you just _know_ that they're the most important people to notice!" Marisa grinned, and then added, "you should write this down now, too. Your mind's gonna try and forget she exists like crazy."

"…A subconscious psychological phenomenon – that denial of existence could outweigh remembrance by exceptional or extraordinary qualities…" Patchouli was falling back on one of many, many things she'd read, Marisa suspected. Her books, and the knowledge thereof, were her domain – and she was, as such, comfortable there. She then reached out, pulling a seemingly random book from one of her shelves, and produced some manner of writing device – devoid of ink and quill, Marisa suspected it was from the outside world – to scribble notes in the margins with.

And then Sakuya showed up, looking almost bloodshot - inasmuch as Sakuya ever showed any expression.. Marisa realized that her response was late.

Sakuya. Was late.

Marisa's laughing overtook her again as she realized the extent to which Koishi could make anything utterly hilarious – people's most familiar aspects could simply fall short in the face of subconscious interference. While perhaps the thought of accidentally being driven to sanity was scary… there was _no way_ that this result couldn't be worth the risk.

A series of pin-point knives barely missing her to make the point did little to ease Marisa's laugher, especially as Sakuya noticed Koishi and understood that she had entirely failed to know that the mansion had a new guest.

"My apologies for the… late… arrival." The word 'late' sounded a couple of magnitudes worse than a case of horrific murder, coming from Sakuya. She said no more, and Marisa considered high-tailing it out of the mansion before the maid decided it would be acceptable to shift the blame to the less innocuous intruder. "And who would this be?"

Marisa had never seen Sakuya's perfect manners so horribly stretched. Almost everything about this situation was as far from perfect as it could be, which made the situation almost perfect, in her eyes.

"Koishi…" Said Patchouli, hesitating.

"Komeiji," Marisa finished. "She's a satori – remember the incident with the sun? She's the sister of the one who owned the palace."

Patchouli looked at Marisa again, and the witch realized that Patchouli of all people had no choice but to cede to her as the superior source of knowledge.

It was so hard not to laugh.

"So I guess you're wondering why she went around unnoticed in this mansion, in Patchy's library, and to the Perfect Maid, huh…" Marisa grinned. "Oh. Where'd she go now?"

Marisa watched as Patchouli and Sakuya turned the wrong way to look, and then noticed enough to know which was the right way to look from the wrong way, and then experienced a healthy dose of cognitive dissonance. Koishi giggled, and Marisa started laughing yet again.

"You people really know this place, huh? I could tell where to go in this entire mansion from you two." Koishi said, looking at them like… well, like _something_.

Patchouli raised an eyebrow. "But I didn't happen to be considering such a matter in the slightest…"

"So?" Marisa asked, enjoying the situation far too much still.

"Satori are well-known for their ability to read minds with that third eye… but that manifests exclusively in conscious thought – thought that the owner recognizes the structure and narrative of."

"Her third eye ain't normal, is it?"

Patchouli looked at it. "And what meaning would a sealed eye provide?"

"I don't read minds. There's nothing good about that. Everyone hates you and all their thoughts are a mess anyways."

Marisa was almost surprised at the coherency of Koishi's speech here, but not quite – she had said something to this effect before, when they had first met.

"You are clearly discerning some manner of personal information if you can ascertain the details of this mansion from us." Patchouli said.

"That's the subconscious! Mental Reflex! What you think before you think!" Koishi nodded, and looked over to Sakuya. "Yeah, just like you know this place without needing to think about it."

"The younger sister, I presume?"

Each of the room's inhabitants turned to face the mistress of the mansion, and Marisa realized that she was probably the most uneasy of them.

Remilia could be a brat, a child, cruel – a whole number of silly things. She was only _careful_ about her composure, posturing aside, when she didn't know what to assess.

"Yep!" Koishi drifted into the air in her comical, sense-defying fashion. She paused, and then spoke again. "How _do_ you read a fate you know and can't see?"

Remilia raised her eyebrows, and her composure was now uncomfortably deliberate. "I… see. Well, allow me to welcome you to my mansion, for the time being. I'd have given you a proper welcome if I'd known."

"S'okay, nobody knows when I'm coming!"

"Nobody?" Remilia lowered one eyebrow, and kept the other raised in mock skepticism.

"Sometimes sis does. Maybe. I dunno!"

"And what happens to bring you here?" Remilia's irritation was ever-so-slightly apparent. Koishi was an enigma that stumped absolutely everyone the first time they met her, and Remilia, self-acclaimed master of fates, was not enjoying this fact.

Koishi pointed the opposite direction of Marisa, and everyone looked the correct direction. Marisa watched the confusion, now slightly lessened, play out on their faces.

"Kirisame."

"Yo!" Marisa waved and grinned.

"You come sneaking into the mansion like a rat to steal property from our librarian again, and you bring a _guest_ who we've met not once before?"

"Not at all!" Marisa replied, lying through her teeth as she was used to. "Total coincidence."

"But you know her."

"I met her up on the mountain after the Incident, 'course I do. Then my mind tried to forget I ever saw her, so I made a point of remembering it. If your reflex wants to forget it, it's _gotta_ be important." Marisa stopped, and added, "you'll want to forget too, so mind that."

"Well, you'll forgive me if I don't believe your insignificant lies." Remilia forced a thin smile. "Now, Miss Komeiji, you'd be welcome here if you'd like to visit without the thief."

Koishi tilted her head. "But you'd have to know."

"Know what?" Everyone in the room stumbled on their own composure as Koishi retroactively had been gone the whole time.

Everyone except Marisa. She looked to one shelf, saw that Koishi wasn't there, and on bizarre meta-intuition, knew that Koishi was there.

"Well, it's been nice having an unusual chat with all of you…" Marisa palmed a tiny, solidified piece of the mixture from earlier, not knowing when precisely she actually _got_ it. Koishi, it seemed, had been at work before their first conscious meeting today.

"But I gotta split." Grinning, Marisa threw caution into the wind, and cast the same, quiet diagnostic spell she had the last time on the mixture, hoping it wasn't a dud.

She had a pet theory – mostly because it seemed the most fun – that the mixture would actually become _more_ potent when dried out, mostly because that was the average tendency of such mixtures.

She was, as luck would have it, correct.

Marisa felt all of her personal failsafe spells trigger, one after another, at the sudden velocity, and laughed, although she wasn't sure anyone would hear her.

＊ ＊ ＊

Sakuya sighed as she walked calmly through time so slow it might as well be frozen. Everybody else had a nonplussed – but not surprised – expression at Marisa's characteristic exit. She, on the other hand, had a mess to clean up.

Maintenance was, to her, almost entirely automatic. It had to be, given all the extra time it took from her own perspective – if it was active work… well, her hair couldn't grey, but it would certainly wear at her.

Wear and tear, of course, being entirely unsuitable for the Perfect and Elegant Maid.

The Satori that had accompanied Marisa, for lack of a better word, was… unusual. Nobody had detected her entrance, and when she left, Sakuya's mind had immediately gone to clean up the loose ends with clean stories that, as Marisa had warned, were altogether false.

Both Patchouli and Remilia were clearly disturbed by the havoc that was let loose on their internal reflexes. Sakuya knew that it was altogether unique, because nothing short of the unprecedented supernatural could have her of all people late for something.

And, in turn, the aftermath definitely disturbed her. She was adept – had learned to be – at reading expressions accurately and in detail, so that she could find a way to ease unrest in an instant, whether by distraction or solution. A paradigm so entirely internal as this, on the other hand, had no answer.

In her own time, Sakuya sighed, and continued her clean-up. If Marisa dropped by in such a fashion again, they'd need some answer – she always caused havoc, and finding new or explosive methods of entry and exit was normal, but her accomplice would drive everyone insane.

Her Lady could play games in good spirit, but something consistently besting her on the terms of her own reflex?

Well, it wouldn't be good for the mansion.

＊ ＊ ＊

Marisa was expecting Koishi when she showed up this time, and she was sure that the predictability was entirely unusual.

"Yo!" She said, giving an idle wave. Her mind had almost gotten used to second-guessing itself – she had almost made disregarding mental reflex a mental reflex in and of itself. Marisa wondered how Koishi would start messing with her once she did. "Didja have fun?"

"You did!" Koishi said with a glowing smile. "So I did, too!" Marisa chuckled.

"Yeah, I've never seen Patchy so confused in her own library. That was amazing!" Marisa paused, and added, "I'd ask how you did it, but that seems about as productive as asking if I'm lying. Which I never do."

"She knows every book on every shelf without knowing." Koishi nodded, as if her statement made sense. And at this point, to Marisa, it did.

With an internal shrug, the witch decided on a change of topic. "So, I gotta personal question."

"What's personal?" Koishi was in one of the wrong places now, out of Marisa's sight.

"How do you remember me? I got the impression you don't really put much of anything to memory…"

"I don't! Reading minds is lame."

"So…"

"I don't read my own mind. It's silly!" Koishi appeared retroactively in a thinking pose, upside down.

"Silly?"

"The thought passes through on its own, why spend time holding it back and guessing at it after it's already done?" Marisa was slightly taken aback by… well, by an opinionated thought process from Koishi.

"I dunno, I get some of my best work from second-guessing what I see waaaay too much. People don't expect it, they just think it's long gone, and then bam!" Marisa made a gesture on the air. "It explodes in their faces."

Koishi shrugged, but didn't seem any less carefree. Marisa went back to the main point.

"But you remember me."

"Do I?"

"I betcha even know my name."

"Whyzat?" Koishi tilted her head.

"Dunno, just a guess. But you keep coming back to meet me each day now, right?"

"I can remember people, kinda. Just what they mean, what they feel like."

"What do I feel like, then?"

"Dunno! I can't read it, I just know it." Koishi landed on Marisa's—no, that was an illusion of feeling. She was in front of her, still.

Marisa wanted to continue asking why and how, but it was clearly going to go in a circle at best. So she settled on giving her own side first.

"Well, I remember _you_."

"Eh? What's that mean?" Koishi drifted into the air, bending with motion that didn't quite match her movement.

"I remember who and what you are. And whatcha do! And I'm gathering that most people forget you. Instantly, even!"

"Go on!" Koishi did a flip in the air, and then landed a few inches above the ground.

"Well, the memory that my head doesn't go and try to forget is that you, Koishi Komeiji, are the sister of Satori Komeiji in the Palace of Earth Spirits down below. Buuuut that's kinda just describing what you are, not who you are."

Koishi tilted her head, but didn't say anything.

"You're a satori who closed your third eye, blocking your ability to read minds and granting you odd quirks over the subconscious that you can't – well, won't really control. You travel around a lot, you like to explore, you have fun when people are having fun.

"You're chaotic and impulsive, you move around non-stop in ways that don't match how you look like you're moving, but you're never mean. You stop by randomly, throw everyone off all the time, and keep my head going in circles trying to forget you, 'cuz it _knows_ something like you can't exist.

"Buuuuuut _I_ know you do. And you're a blast! Whether you're just adding random fun to anything, or whether you're messing Patchy's internal library up so hard I can't breathe, you just make anything more fun." Marisa grinned, ignoring how cheesy she felt, because, well, that wasn't exactly something Koishi'd know.

"And you keep stopping by here, so I hope I'm fun for you, too, 'cause I'd like it if you kept showing up around and adding chaos to everything. I dunno how you remember or why you come back, but hey, knowing without knowing's half of whatcha do!"

Koishi drifted into the air, and slowly began to smile.

"Thanks!" She said, and Marisa suddenly found herself in a clinging hug from Koishi.

And then, as the satori let go, she was retroactively gone, as she always was when she left.

Marisa smiled. What an odd one she was…

＊ ＊ ＊

Marisa didn't spend too much time on her thoughts, this night. Further experimentation with the mushroom could, for now, wait, and what had gone down at the mansion was still utterly and entirely hilarious, and Koishi…

Well, whatever she did, it was what it was – there wasn't going to be hidden subtext, at least not that one needed to get. Subconscious impulse seemed personified in the odd, blinded satori, and rolling with it was all one could do. Looking for further meaning in her actions? Well, one might want to, subconscious interpretation being what it is, but with no conscious goals or actions to contrast, it would be an exercise in futility.

Marisa laughed a little, and waited on time alone as she drifted to sleep.


	4. Chapter 4 - A Circle's Starting Point

"Sis! Sis!"

Satori Komeiji looked to the opposite direction of the voice she heard to find her sister.

It had been many, many years since Koishi had closed her third eye, and as family, Satori was probably the one person who had altogether grown used to it. Although her younger sister still made a joke of mental reflex, Satori was altogether unfazed whenever she felt inclined to look the wrong way, or be disturbed at motion that didn't match movement.

"Yes, Koishi? What is it?" It was, on the other hand, unusual for Koishi to stop by so excitedly – it was a pleasant surprise, and with regards to Koishi, that was unfortunately rare.

"Black-white – the witch – Marisa! Marisa Kirisame! She remembers me!" Koishi hopped in place, and it seemed to be genuine, although it was always hard to tell _what_ Koishi was so genuinely portraying. And Koishi being what she was, she had no thoughts that the third eye could read.

"Remembers you?" Satori smiled, in spite of herself.

"Yeah! She told me a lot of stuff about me. More than just that I'm your sis!" Koishi seemed to be glowing, and the consistency of it was starting to indicate that she was genuinely happy.

That was indeed rare, and Satori found her smile deepening, despite the worries she knew she should have – Marisa Kirisame was a witch, a thief, a massive troublemaker, and a mad scientist of sorts. Perhaps it was that voluntary insanity that let her – apparently – interact so well with Koishi.

"And what did she say?" Satori said, still smiling.

"I dunno! I don't remember things," Koishi said, tilting her head. "So I can't tell you… but it was really nice!" She looked a little disappointed at her inability to share. "You're happy though, sis!"

Satori chuckled. "Yes, I am. I'm just glad to see you've found something that makes you happy, rather than just amusing you for a few minutes. Even if," she added, "that something is one of the most notorious troublemakers in Gensokyo."

"Yeah… yeah!" Koishi laughed, and then added, "I'm gonna go now. See ya, sis!"

And with that, Koishi was gone, outside of perception. It was unusual that she had bothered to say something before vanishing, too.

Still, Satori was glad, at least for now, that her sister was actually overjoyed.

Of course, the more terrifying prospect remained – she might actually have to pay the witch a visit, herself…

＊ ＊ ＊

Black white black white black-white Kirisame! (Marisa!) Koishi was happy (not just funny(but funny too)). She said a lot of nice things (but what? (can't remember(never remember))). Sis was happy too (happy because of happy(that's really nice)). Sis wanted to know what Marisa (black-white Kirisame) said (that was sad) and she couldn't share it (feeling, point, no memory).

Marisa (Kirisame!) probably remembered (always remembered (definitely when she can't)). Koishi could ask (ask what(does she mind?)). What was the problem? No thought.

Sad, share, happy, remembering! Marisa remembered.

She didn't seem sad (memory and life) and she was still funny (crazy(fun!)).

Koishi wondered (what's wondering like(can't think(always feeling))).

Find the witch (Marisa) again (again)!

＊ ＊ ＊

"Heya!" Marisa waved to Koishi – she'd gotten used enough to her that she could recognize her subconscious trips, and knew they signaled the satori's arrival.

Koishi floated over her head, looking into the distance. "Hey, Marisa…"

"Ha! You _do_ remember it."

"What's it like to remember things?"

Marisa, unlike herself, went straight to her answer, knowing that Koishi didn't hold any thought for long.

"I don't know what it's like not to remember, for the most part. But I wouldn't give my memory up, even if it _did_ help me be more insane."

"Doesn't it hurt?"

"Eh," Marisa shrugged. "It hurts and it helps. Half of what most of us are is that memory, though. The other half's in the reflexes and the feelings, of course. But…" Marisa, surprisingly, found herself letting go of her careful impression, opting to speak honestly. Perhaps it was the brevity, perhaps Koishi had a hand in it – she couldn't say. "I dunno how I'd keep grinning stupidly like I do if I couldn't remember anything good. Maybe nothing would suck, too, but no good times? No plans, no friends to remember, no proof of anything when I get old and die? Not the choice I'd make."

Koishi, unusually, looked like she was thinking about this. "I don't know why I stopped remembering. That was part of not remembering – I don't think, I don't know what I think. It passes by, and I just get the feelings. Sometimes there's enough words, sometimes… I dunno." She shook her head, looking almost spaced out now – it was clear that when she said she didn't know, that meant that was the end of any focused knowledge she had.

"I'm gonna wander around today," she said, deciding to be gone all along. Marisa reached out to where Koishi most certainly wasn't, and found her.

Koishi let out a little yelp – clearly, this was a first. "What?"

"If you don't want to remember, you don't have to. I'm not you, what works for me isn't always what works for you."

"Of course not!" Koishi smiled, but it felt different than her usual expressions, to Marisa. "But… I want to remember you."

"You do, don'tcha?"

"Not like you do!" Koishi relaxed a little, and Marisa felt her own tension fall. It was hard to tell if it was concern, or simply that Koishi had shared her own feelings through her powers.

"Well, alright. Just don't do anything 'cause I made you, alright?"

She nodded, and seemed back to her more chaotic self before vanishing from perception.

Marisa sighed. With Koishi, it was always hard to read the situation, let alone tell what she was thinking. Although her expressions themselves were transparent and readable, they were changing like one's internal train of thought – without particular coherency or filtering for relevance.

Well, if Koishi was out for the today, it made a good time to continue experimentation, and Marisa decided she'd do just that. If the mixture became more volatile when dried, then sure there were other measures to take for a pure increase in firepower.

Marisa gave her characteristic grin to herself, and headed inside.

＊ ＊ ＊

Marisa Kirisame fumbled with her ingredients, almost dropping extra into the mixture as something made itself apparent.

Someone was knocking on her door.

Someone was _knocking_ on _her_ door.

Marisa sorted a few things and set the mixture to simmer as she ran to the door. Anybody that knew where to find her would either barge in or kick down the door because she'd set them up, and anyone polite enough to knock would probably avoid associating with her, or at least not go this far out into the forest. So who…

She opened the door, and found herself looking at something like the inverse of Koishi – Wait, no, she knew this person. It was Koishi's Sister, owner of the Palace of Earth Spirits—

"Satori Komeiji, yes. And you would be Marisa Kirisame."

"Yo!" She gave a mock wave, trying to balance her thoughts with how much time the mixture had and what on earth might bring her here.

"My apologies for the intrusion, but I have a few questions to ask you, if you have the time."

"Uhh, yeah, just one moment—"

The mixture exploded, this time blowing a clean hole in her ceiling.

"—nevermind. Problem solved!"

Satori raised an eyebrow. "Well, if you're concerned about my third eye, I can assure you that trying to juggle that many trains of thought does an admirable job at keeping me in the dark."

Multiple trains of thought? Well, that was interesting. Marisa always ran a few in the background – experiments, spells, reflex, and now keeping things in conscious thought when she didn't want Koishi to read them.

Koishi, of course, was almost certainly the topic at hand—

"Like so, yes."

"Eheh, sorry." Marisa gave a sheepish grin. "I don't do it on purpose!"

"Some people do. Have you met one Yukari Yakumo?"

Marisa rolled her eyes. "Like reading her mind would mean anything even if she didn't hide it."

"I don't doubt that's the case, honestly, but I digress. May I come in?"

"Go ahead! Mind the messes, though."

Satori's raised eyebrow as she scanned the house indicated that Marisa was not just messy, but exceptionally so. On the other hand, she was able to avoid every mess and impromptu trap quite skillfully, so maybe there was some experience.

Marisa wondered how the birdbrain – Utsuho – handled organization of anything that _wasn't_ a nuclear furnace.

"Not as badly, but close enough." Satori said, stepping over a pile of books to find a chair.

"Do you usually comment on what that third eye sees?" Marisa said, raising an eyebrow. In all truth, she didn't mind – it was more fun that way.

"No, but you didn't seem like you'd mind." She had the confirmation for that now, of course. "At any rate, I did, as you seem to be thinking, come to ask you about my sister."

"Ah, what about her?" Marisa said. She was curious, now, what exactly might have made its way back to Koishi's sister, given the girl's general span of attention and coherency.

"She came to me quite overjoyed the other evening," Satori said, looking into the distance. "She doesn't tend to visit too often – at least, not visibly – and when she does, it's rarely with news. We don't talk that much, although I still care for my sister."

"About what?"

"She said you remembered her. That you told her a fair amount about her, although more than that she didn't say."

"Well… yeah. See, your sis keeps trying to slip out of memory, if you let her. My head starts trying to make up believable stories about what I really saw and pass those off as truth." Marisa grinned, and adjusted her hat. "But see, I'm crazy, so if my head really wants to forget something, I just _have_ to remember it! And your sister is just a real handful of fun."

Satori smiled. "You seem fond of her."

Marisa shrugged, but kept her grin. "She's more chaotic than I am, messes with my mind in a way that keeps me on my toes, is never an outright jerk, and shares any feeling of interest I have. It'd be hard _not_ to like someone like that."

"Most people just forget her, you know. Those that don't are typically far too disturbed by the nature of her presence to think about her as a person."

Marisa laughed. "I think it's hilarious! I mean, I took her down to the Scarlet Devil Mansion for kicks the other day, and—"

Satori's stare was suddenly withering. "—and maaaybe I shouldn't talk about it too much…" Marisa raised her hands in mock surrender. "I didn't get her in any trouble; they'll blame me, I promise! Remilia even said she'd be welcome on her own."

And then Marisa started laughing. "Man, watching Patchy suddenly lose her sense of direction in her own library, though…"

" _Thank you_." Satori said, her tone now quite cold. " _Anyway_ , mischief aside, I simply wanted to know what the nature of your interactions were – I haven't seen her excited in that way in many years, and, well, I was honestly quite glad for it."

Marisa frowned, and Satori waited – although Marisa didn't know whether it was a formality, or if too many trains of thought had now started up on various levels of consciousness. "She met up with me this morning for a bit, but it was a little strange…"

"Strange? You seem worried." Satori's expression was carefully controlled, now.

"She asked what remembering was like. Tried to go off early, but I caught her."

"You _found_ her?"

"Yeah, you just have to look in the one place you're absolutely sure she couldn't be. I mean, it seems logically impossible to, but when you can't actually tell what direction you're looking in, trying to judge spatial dimensions would be kind of silly. Well, okay, not absolutely sure, just the first place you don't think to look."

"And what happened?" Satori leaned forward in her chair, formality giving way to a more intense interest.

"Well, before that, I told her that I wouldn't wanna live life without remembering. Ehh, it was all cheesy… but anyway, when I caught her, I just wanted to tell her not to do anything 'cause I said so. Because she's not me. And I'm not her. Y'know."

"And?" Satori's focus was iron here. If there were any formal lies told before, that she cared for her sister was definitely not one.

"She said she wanted to remember me. I said she did, 'cause she knew my name and keeps dropping by… but she said not like I did, and then she left." Marisa shrugged. "I dunno what it all means. Her feelings are easy to read, of course, but there's so many of them all unfiltered that it doesn't actually mean much."

Satori paused for a good few seconds, and her expression became a faint smile. "Bad habits aside… you may be what she needs, really."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Marisa said, raising an eyebrow.

"Another time," said Satori, standing up. "I'm afraid that I don't have too much time, now, but I'll make sure to arrange for more the next time I'm here."

"Don't have time? What's taking you?"

Satori gave a wry smile. "Why, I've got an arrangement to meet Remilia Scarlet as a formal guest."

Marisa paused, and acknowledged the point. "Alright, fine, you've got me there. Wait a minute, though."

"A minute?"

"Roughly. What goes up usually comes down and all."

Satori raised one hand, and then put it back down, recalling earlier. "You mean to say that blast from earlier…"

"I kinda just dropped everything into the mix when you knocked." Marisa gave her other signature grin – the one that said 'well, things are about to explode, and yes, I totally did it but can obnoxiously pretend it's not my fault'. " _Nobody_ knocks on my door! They just come in, or kick it down if they're mad, so I was kinda distracted. Aaaanyways, just about….. now."

A wide array of small, colored fragments fell to the ground with considerable velocity, bouncing and crackling, and proceeded to explode in countless colors around the house.

Marisa's house shook, and Satori seemed somewhere between altogether unimpressed, and _too_ impressed.

A good fifteen seconds later, the explosions had cleared up. Satori stood to leave, making her way towards the door, and a few latent fragments on the ground burst into sparks.

"I think that was the last of them," Marisa said.

Satori looked at her, dropping all pretense, and asked, "do you _always_ live like this?"

Marisa laughed. "Sometimes I share the trouble."

＊ ＊ ＊

Marisa had had the time to continue her experimentation after fixing the hole in her roof.

The new strain of mushroom, in truth, seemed to have grown in volatility, rather than power. It was a good catalyst, and an impressive power source, but the time it took to react in mixtures, and the intensity of the reaction itself had grown. Which, given typical nature of magic rubbing off on things, was interesting – usually it either faded or became a power source. The mushrooms seemed to – if it was possible – organically support the magic, rather than simply channel or expend it.

Well, _that_ was so usable it almost seemed unfair. How was she supposed to draw unbelievable power from hopelessly unlikely sources if said sources were _actually_ legitimate magical engines? At this rate, the use of that particular plant life for magic might become... _widespread._

Those considerations were put on hold in favor of a far more impulsive one: how much force would it take to launch something just short of space, and who would notice a manufactured meteor?

But that was one of many, many possibilities. She needed one that was entirely implausible, and if her power source was that grand, it was hard to find an implausibility.

See, this is where Koishi would help. She could make absolutely zero sense, instead of just ordinary poor sense, and running with _that_ would be wonderful.

But she… had things… to think about? Well, she had _something_ to deal with.

Marisa sighed, and settled on further diagnostics for the day. If nothing else, blowing holes in her house with concentrated force was fun, provided she got to irresponsibly fix them with magic instead of doing work.

＊ ＊ ＊

'For the day', as it turned out, was a pretty realistic estimate. Marisa was no stranger to fanatic overfocus on any particular interest, and when she'd looked up from her tests, it had gotten dark.

Marisa, on the other hand, was now quite wary of the other train of thought going on. The day had been, by her standards, kind of boring, despite the new experimentation. Part of it was that such legitimate power failed to provide much novelty or insanity, but part of it was… well, that she'd gotten used to her new, bizarre, impulsive partner in crime.

Missing somebody after spending a lot of time with them in recent history was – wait, missing somebody? _That_ was the phrase that came to mind?

Well, either way, it was definitely not cool. If she was being realistic, it was suspect of a number of things, and that was a train of thought that she decided was staying on the low priority track. Maybe it would crash and burn, with no surviving passengers to carry on the story.

That sounded good. Any further implications were… really not something she planned on exploring. Not as a person, not as a persona, and… well, just not in general.

Marisa decided on sleep rather more pointedly. She was lucky enough to rarely have dreams more than abstract, which would be the normal, ironic set-up.

And so, as usual, she let her trains of thought run their course. Sleep, on the other hand, took a little longer – as she pointedly ignored one particular line of thought.

Rolling over with a sigh, Marisa let fatigue set in. She hated being tired, but it was better than missing sleep altogether.


	5. Chapter 5 - Retracing New Paths

What (why?) does an open eye mean?

Memory (can't remember(can't feel it)) comes back? Memory starts (and stops stopping) again?

She(self(afraid)) doesn't know.

What's memory (unknown(repeat(by choice))) again? Did she want it (scary(you can come back)). Marisa (black-white) remembered.

One thought – one actual thought – came through. She couldn't remember what memory brought (fear(pain(but unknown))).

What (why?) was she running from?

＊ ＊ ＊

Marisa jumped out of bed at the sound of knocking on her door.

It was almost certainly one Satori Komeiji again, simply because nobody else that Marisa knew would ever bother with such a formality, short of Sakuya on an errand, although it was possible people might knock just to be difficult if they knew this.

Nonetheless, when she answered the door, it was who she expected.

"Well, that didn't take you long."

Satori raised an eyebrow. "Is it just me, or has the mess become _worse_ since yesterday?"

"Y'know, somehow I thought you'd be more formal than that." Marisa shrugged. "Most people in your kinda position are."

"The third eye grants some liberties, in that respect – it's easy to tell when somebody's concerned with as much. You…"

Marisa grinned. "Am already offended!" Lying to somebody who could read her mind was utterly stupid, and therefore inherently amusing. Satori smiled, and Marisa laughed. "So, whatcha want?"

"Well, it's about my sister again, of course." Satori's expression quickly became serious – not quite grave, but quite focused.

Surprisingly, Marisa found herself following the tone she so often destroyed for laughs. "And just yesterday, you said you'd tell me something 'another time'. That soon, huh?"

"I'd rather not risk being too late. Not," she added, "that anything I have to say is that immensely important. Koishi is her own person, after all." Satori let out a small breath, and then went on. "My sister is, against all odds, inordinately fond of you. I'm sure you're at least somewhat aware."

"Well, I hope so," said Marisa. "She keeps dropping by, recently. Wouldn't be any good if she was just visiting somebody boring every time."

"It's unusual that she remembers. It's unusual that you actually remember her, of course, but I gather you pieced this together somewhat early."

Marisa grinned, and repeated aloud the thought that had started all of this: "If your mind really, _really_ wants to forget something, then it _has_ to be worth remembering."

"Either way, it's exceptional in both ways; Koishi doesn't really remember anything, as she is now. She cannot read her own mind – just fleeting feelings and thoughts as they pass by."

"So I left an impression!" Marisa grinned, and chalked up a point on an indeterminate, personal score.

"Yes, you did. A lasting one, if she is coming back to the same place twice."

Satori was worried, and Marisa wasn't sure whether she–

"Is making no effort to hide it, yes." Satori held her thin, knowing smile.

It was actually remarkably hard to get used to somebody who was so seemingly formal simply replying to thoughts that she'd read. This meant, naturally, that it was at the very least fun for Marisa. She wondered to herself – and, essentially, aloud – if every satori was comfortable simply responding to thoughts.

"Our kind are born with our third eye, and we see with it from a very young age. Roughly when we learn to think, we begin to understand the thoughts we see. This means… well, nothing is as unusual as you'd expect.

"We've been this way our whole lives. Everybody has thoughts, better and worse, enraged, depraved, or random – many people believe they're terrifying inside… but everyone has terrifying thoughts. To a species that sees all of these thoughts from everyone, the darkest thoughts are not so unusual."

Marisa wondered, offhand, if she was still unusual—

"Quite. You think fast with little organization and wonder about almost everything. You don't tune much out, and most do – especially in the case of a satori."

Satori shook her head. "I think Gensokyo now is far more pleasant, although I can still see people's unease – how could I not? In older times, we were feared, and we were persecuted. Even the Oni, famed for simple honesty, have passing doubts that they are afraid to wear openly."

Marisa was, contrary to what one would expect, not a terrible listener. She was not close-minded, not stubborn on any individual belief, and not – in truth – callous or judgmental. Although many would expect her to disregard anything about which they cared – as she did with what annoyed them – she didn't particularly take any joy in doing so.

Satori, of course, could see this train of thought among many others, but Marisa didn't mind. Although it changed the paradigm, her absurdity didn't need to be opaque, and the character that she worked to establish still existed as the sum of her actions, even if the person underneath was visible.

Satori went on. "Often enough, though, it's plainly visible when people are set on hating our kind for our ability – and there's not much negotiating that. It's easy to give a favorable impression when you know what somebody is looking for – but if they're looking entirely to hate you from the start, there's nothing you can say to assuage their thoughts." She shook her head. "But I digress."

"So this is about your little sis, then."

Satori nodded, and Marisa went on. "I remember, when I first met her, she said something like 'there's nothing good about reading minds'. I didn't really think anything of it then – of course a Satori with a closed third eye would say that. Except… now I know her. She doesn't _have_ opinions on anything. If she said something like that, then whatever has to do with it left a mark that sticks around in her feelings – since that's all she gets her material from, as far as I can tell."

"For somebody so seemingly carefree, you pay a great deal of attention to people, don't you?" Satori's thin smile had returned – she was, Marisa understood, far from without wit.

Marisa shrugged. "I'm human. They do that, right?"

"Some of them, I suppose. Anyways," Satori's expression darkened. "I am willing, for her sake if not yours, to share Koishi's past with you. She may not remember it, but I do, and I still have many, many regrets over it. I will not, however, burden you with this if you don't wish it – especially as she is now, I would not want to drive away any company she has. I'm already aware," she added, "that I'm being overbearing by any normal standard of the word."

Marisa Kirisame did some quick, simple calculations in her head, and said, "This isn't going to be a happy story, is it?"

"No." Satori's expression remained dark, a mixture of different feelings Marisa couldn't quite identify.

Marisa Kirisame was insane and a pain, so to speak, but… not that kind of a jerk. "Yeah," she said. "Tell me all about it, you've got me. Take a seat, and hopefully she doesn't show up in the middle and make things awkward."

"I'd be quite surprised," said Satori. "She's always prone to pop up at the most… interesting moment, yes, but takes great pains to avoid her past."

"Ah. Well, come in, then, I'm all ears. For now."

＊ ＊ ＊

Satori had, in all honesty, been preparing for this.

Given that Marisa Kirisame, in spite of her many, many odd tendencies, was willing to listen, one would think that it wouldn't take any particular preparation of mental fortitude to talk as she now would.

But it did. Satori, on the whole, considered herself a complete failure in this respect – she did not know what she _could_ have done for her sister, but she knew how it had all ended, and she knew she had made no difference.

She had tried her best, and she had failed. Her regrets had not faded.

She took a breath, and began.

"I will say, first, that the Gensokyo of today is far, far kinder than what there was before the barrier. Death, prejudice, fear – by and large, our world is absent those. Not entirely, but compared to before? I've no doubt you know the tales."

Marisa gave an odd smile, and nodded. _Someone I know really, really hated us all for it._

Satori did not read any further into the thought.

"So what happened then would not happen the same way now. The unease which people feel around our kind now is trivial, honestly."

 _So they'd rather have your kind dead, back then, huh_.

"Yes. They don't say it aloud, but of course we have always seen it." Satori sighed. "Our kind were never well-liked. People feared our ability – they felt exposed, and so very many people assumed that we would judge them and hate them for their darker thoughts. We wouldn't, of course – every person has the range of thoughts, from inappropriate to furious to overjoyed."

Marisa gave a small grin. "So… you're just defined by what you do anyways. Just like it is without the mind-reading."

"Yes, but… well, nobody would believe that, not at that time. I don't think so many of them would now, either." Against her better judgment, Satori lowered her own, internal guard. Marisa Kirisame was the last person around which this would be normally advisable, and they both knew it, but… she wasn't uncomfortable. She was not afraid of any judgment, or of what a prying third eye would reveal.

Satori did not smile, but she relaxed. "People's fear gave way to… unfortunate thoughts, all of which we could see. Somehow, in that, they could forget what it was they were afraid of – our ability to see those very thoughts.

"Our ability allows us to tell people what they want to hear, to comfort them – if they're listening at all. Most… would not. Some merely wanted nothing to do with us, others wished death on us, although never in words. As I said, even the Oni, famed for honesty and simplicity, often doubted themselves when faced with the thought of our third eye. What if they'd embellished an old drinking tale? What if they'd forgotten something and filled in the blank? We could make liars of them in a way nothing else could.

"Fear is powerful. If you don't watch it, it colors everything. I don't know of a single one of our kind that was not hated by the majority of those we met. As the mistress of the Palace beneath, I wielded some degree of power – those who didn't were less fortunate, living on the run, or not living at all."

Marisa shrugged. "People get really touchy about the thought that they might not be who they think they are." _I'd know_. Satori did not respond, but the line of thought remained clear. _I've got more than a few impressions that I'd have to work really hard to show with that eye…_ Marisa smirked, and her thought became speech. "…But you are what you are. No point hating you for that. Besides, it's fair if you see the rest of me, 'cause this means a lot to you."

"To me?" Satori was surprised – Marisa was perceptive – whatever interest she had in Koishi hadn't blinded her to anything else.

"Yeah, you care about her a whole lot. If there's something you regret, it's for her sake, not for your own."

Satori smiled, in spite of herself. "And _I'm_ the one who can read minds, here."

Marisa chuckled, and then her expression returned to a serious one. Satori was surprised that it suited her at all, but there was a focus to it that seemed within the witch's character.

"Koishi…" Satori took one deep breath, and let her feelings wash over her.

Marisa leveled her gaze with Satori, and spoke first. Satori lost track of her active thoughts as different lines began to collide. "I can already tell where this is going, honestly. It's unheard of, to close your third eye, right?"

"Unprecedented, at least. The belief had been that it would make it all but impossible to read your own mind, which would make survival all but impossible. Half of that belief has proven to be true." Satori shook her head, and continued.

"Koishi's energy, her excitement – those have always been a part of who she is. The strange company she makes, the random little decisions – those are not a recent development."

 _There aren't_ any _recent developments, are there?_

Satori did not answer the thought. The truth of it stung her… but not as much as she would have thought.

Perhaps that was because of Marisa Kirisame – who had inadvertently changed quite a number of things that had been set in stone for countless years. She was crazy, and she chose to be so, but perhaps that was what was needed – Gensokyo was, of course, an infinitely strange land.

But Satori went on. "My sister was somebody who saw joy in every person, if not the best in them. She would always be excited to share any joy or amusement – be it hers or another's. She loved people – each one seemed to be a new, strange experience to her, and that seemed to be all she wanted out of life. When she was young, she once said she wanted to meet everyone…

"But that was not to be. No matter how genuinely joyful she was, fear and suspicion colored the words and actions of everyone she spoke with. Humans, Youkai, Oni – all manner of species avoided her like they avoided the rest of our kind, and thought those hateful things that one would only ever think to say in terror.

"She pretended to ignore it – she acted as if it was nothing, addressed no thought that she saw, acted by all means as if she was without her third eye – as if she was a youkai without pride or power."

Marisa shook her head. "It didn't help."

"No, it did not. The thoughts – the constant fear, suspicion, and hatred with which the world treated her wore at her, I think. I'll never be sure, I think – she certainly won't speak of it now, and she wouldn't speak of it then. Either way, there was a breaking point."

"What happened?" _What did they do?_

Satori's gaze met Marisa's, and she inhaled before answering the question. "One day, there was a gathering – some manner of mob or riot borne of general chaos – that decided she was to be made an example of. She was hurt, although not severely." She clenched her first, and looked down. "It is the only time I have ever fought with intent to kill."

 _You're still angry. And your intent…_

"Few of them survived. I have never been exceptionally powerful, but a terrified, thoughtless mob is not hard to outwit, when you can see their thoughts. My fury did not blind me – it was a tool, not an overwhelming force. It was surreal.

"I remember it all."

Marisa's expression did not visibly change, and her thoughts began to interfere with one another, all the while increasing their pace. Satori waited, and the magician did not speak.

Satori's gaze remained upon the floor. "She was shocked, and she was afraid. While I can only suspect that the thoughts of those around her took their toll prior to that point, she was… not herself, after that. She stopped interacting with anybody – she didn't leave the palace. One day, she told me that she didn't want to be a satori anymore.

"She felt horrible even mentioning it – because even if it meant that I wouldn't be her sister, even if it meant losing the home she knew, she would still give it up for the chance to speak with a world that didn't hate her."

Satori, at last, looked up. "There was nothing, at that point, that I could do. One day, she retreated to her room and did not leave. I found her there, many hours later, asleep, with her third eye closed."

"That's not normal when you're sleeping?" Marisa's question was incidental, but not amused, not now.

"No. Our third eye is always open, even when our seeing eyes are closed. It's possible to wake us up with 'loud' thought, but it's no easier than shouting someone awake."

"Gotcha." Marisa leaned back slightly in her chair, and Satori noted that her thoughts were still all but impossible to read. Too many different thoughts, all at once, and all moving too quickly.

"She slept for many, many days without waking. I tried to wake her myself, but it was all but impossible. As I mentioned, the common belief was that a satori without a functioning third eye would have no mind – and thus would never wake again." Satori shook her head. "I thought my sister was one step from death, and I believed it to be my fault. On some level, I know better – on others, I still doubt."

Marisa stood up, stretching. She was serious, but she was still active in all her small ways, still outside strong emotion. "But she woke up."

"Indeed, she did. She awoke, and I found myself shocked by her very presence. She was there, and she spoke to me – I did not forget her, of course. As her sister, she is long since etched into my own subconscious.

"But I could not read her. There was no noise, no running thought – although she seemed… excited again, that was it. It was as if she had turned back her life some years, and then all but frozen any development – no memory, no thoughts read, no assumptions."

Satori, at last, loosened her posture, although she had not caught herself growing tense. "And she has not changed since. Her random travel and odd excitement are exactly the same as the day she first woke with a closed eye, and she remembers nothing new, and few remember her at all – mostly children, at that."

"You mean, she _didn't_ remember anything new." Marisa gave one of her trademark grins. "Don't worry, I'm mad too. It's just not in me to stay angry at things I can't do anything about. My first teacher – an actual teacher, not somebody I just stole things from – was angry at everyone and everything, and I really couldn't do it, y'know?" She shook her head. "So what're you worried about now?"

"My sister seems to enjoy coming back here, whatever it is the two of you are up to, and she does remember you on some level. I think there is some chance that she will get frustrated at what she can't remember. Usually, the same repetition of her own habits is fine, but she remembers you, on some level, and you absolutely remember her. Repetition, for once, might be frustrating."

Satori allowed herself to smile. "I have not seen Koishi differ in many ways for a long, long time, and I am seeing that now. I do not know what she will want, or what she is capable of, but I thought I might let you know, so that you could help her along, if you are so inclined."

"Nah, you're right. It'd be a shame if somebody that crazy and unique got stuck doing the same thing until we got bored of each other. There's a lot of trouble to cause!" Marisa Kirisame's personality, it seemed, was not one to be held down for long. "Do you have any idea what she's going to do?"

Satori shook her head. "No. I don't know if it's possible to reopen a closed third eye, let alone what would happen in such a case. I don't know, either," she added, "what can be done with a closed third eye – all we knew said that my sister would never wake up, and she did."

Marisa adjusted her hat, and her particular brand of insane charisma returned in full force. "I don't think it matters!"

"Hm?" Satori noted, quietly, that thought and word were quite in sync now.

"I mean, I'd rather care about your sis than not, and it makes me angry what the world did to her, yeah…" Marisa grinned, and continued, "but you can't _do_ anything with that anger. Whatever she's been through, she is what she is now, and whatever she chooses to do, that's up to her.

"If she's like you say, she'll want to keep moving, even if she does open that eye and start exploring. There's a whole new world that hasn't happened yet, right? If she decides to see it _all_ , third eye included, it'd still make more sense to start new and learn to take in more information, than go back to a history where people almost killed her for no reason, yeah?"

Satori paused for a moment, and could almost feel her own pressure evaporate.

She smiled. "You know, bad influence or not, I can't say I wouldn't trust you."

"You can _always_ trust me." Marisa's grin widened.

Satori finished the witch's thought aloud. "Except when I can't. Maybe I wouldn't trust you without the third eye…" She chuckled. "But you seem to understand my sister, and accept her, however possible that is."

"All I've got is what I see," Marisa replied. "What else would I work with?"

"Sometimes, people work with themselves to judge others. It's strange, but it's common enough. Anyways," she added, waving a hand, "I've meddled enough in affairs that are none of my business. Thank you for indulging my own weaknesses, here."

"Sure." Marisa let out a small laugh. "Those weaknesses are open game now, though. That's the price!"

Satori paused a moment, listened to her third eye, and said " _they're_ open game?"

"What's _that_ mean?" _Okay, fine, she's onto me._

"What you're thinking is: 'I know you well enough now that _everything's_ open game now." Still wearing her slightly devious smile, she added, "I suppose I ought to bring company, then."

"Hey, I bet I know who!" Marisa said, and went on to think, _oh, it's on._

"Very well, then." Satori stood, once again watching her surroundings for countless messes to avoid. "Thank you for having me, thank you for listening, and you have my apologies for taking your time with my own worries."

"Eh…" Marisa shrugged. "If I wasn't crazy, I might worry, too; she's a kid, in a lot of ways. And she's your little sis, so isn't worrying about her how that works?"

"Not always," Satori replied, "but in this case, yes. Thank you, again."

"Don't worry about it. I mean, more than you are." Marisa waved. "One of those books is a bit trapped, so mind the piles."

"A bit?"

"It _probably_ won't take the whole house."

＊ ＊ ＊

Marisa sat back in her chair, allowing herself a moment to think.

Truth be told, there wasn't _that_ much to take in. Sure, it was emotionally heavy, but there wasn't anything that was too surprising about it. The only Satori known to have a closed third eye having a troubled past? Well, it would be more surprising if she didn't.

At the same time, however, she did care about her new, odd, companion. Even if most of the fun was in the extreme novelty in just about everything she did, spending time with somebody tended to start meaning something. That was how humans worked – hell, it seemed to be how Youkai worked. Even Yukari, incomprehensible and needlessly complex, could be gauged to be fond of Reimu by the time she spent teasing her.

But she did wonder, now, what could be going through Koishi's head, quite literally. What could she actually hold in thought? _Could_ she make decisions that were anything more than whimsical? Were things going to take a chaotic – and not light-heartedly so – turn because she couldn't pause for a moment to think about opening her third eye?

Was it possible? This was not, to Marisa's chagrin, a situation that could be clarified with rigorous testing. It wasn't even a situation to be solved with explosions!

How had Marisa Kirisame got herself involved with a situation that couldn't be solved through testing _or_ explosions? It was altogether ridiculous, by her particular standards.

Marisa tilted her head back as she felt something on her shoulders, and found Koishi. At this point, she wasn't too surprised. "Heya!"

"Did I hear you?" she asked, arms around Marisa in a position that should have been awkward, but didn't feel it in the slightest.

"I dunno! Even if you see that question before I think it, I'm still asking you for an answer."

Koishi frowned. She was uncertain, and Marisa could tell – feelings were sometimes shared, even if there seemed to be no rhyme or reason to when. "What do I want?"

Marisa smiled. "Well, it looks to me like you just want to have fun. And now it's looking like you could have a lot more fun if you could think for yourself, right? Otherwise, we're stuck doing the same thing over and over, and eventually it stops being fun."

"I can listen to you, but I can't understand it." Koishi's tone was quiet and serious, unlike she had been. "I can understand you, but I can't understand."

"Do you want to?"

"No," Koishi said, nodding 'yes'.

This, Marisa thought, was going to be difficult.

Then again, she _aimed_ for difficult. "Well, if you want to try anything, I'm here. I don't know anything, I don't know what you _can_ do, but I'm here."

"Opening my third eye," Koishi said, reading thoughts before thoughts. "You're very worried, but you feel like it would be better for me."

She let go of Marisa, and the witch stood, allowing a little more space for Koishi's odd movements.

Koishi then hugged her tightly, devoid of any bizarre subconscious movement. "You'll be different, in years, and I won't," she said, her face now buried. She was not crying, and her tone did not waver.

Marisa held her, and hugged back. "Yeah. I think we all have to change, some time or another. Life's not _fun_ if it's never new."

She thought for a moment, and discarded her pride, and the impressions she chose to give. If there was one person out there who would be literally incapable of judging her for it, it was Koishi. "It's scary, and it's not all good, and sometimes you get totally lost. But otherwise, you're just doing the same thing over and over again, and that sounds a lot like being bored to me."

And for the first time, Marisa felt frustration from Koishi. "I don't understand," the satori said, "I don't want..." She trailed off, not finishing the sentence.

"I'd charge into it blindly, then. I dunno about you, but I'd rather crash face first into change than never make progress. Even if I mess up, even if people hate me, even if I lose the friends I have – I don't want to be the same person now that I was years ago. I don't want to be the same person years later as I am now."

Koishi tightened her grip.

"Yeah, yeah, I know, thoughts stuck in subconscious. You _have_ been the same for a whole lotta time, but that doesn't mean I hate you. We can all be stuck, and we can all find a time to get moving again."

"Hate me…" Koishi seemed almost stuck, and on that particular subject, it didn't surprise Marisa.

Marisa, on the other hand, did realize something: she did not respect cowardice. She disliked people who lied to themselves, she hated running from an issue she could fight instead, and it always bugged her how much people cared about outside opinions.

She could sympathize with Koishi's past, but had the decision been made while she was there?

Once upon a time, it would have made her angry. Mima had hated humankind, and parts of that had rubbed off on Marisa, manifesting in smaller judgments and issues. Now? Now, she understood it… but it was still cowardice.

Cowardice, she could accept, but not live with. The simple truth was that Koishi, if she could never face her own issues, would simply remain a novelty. She would be a source of fun that had lasted a few weeks and certainly been unique, but that would be it. Some weeks later, life would move on – nothing more would come of it. And if Marisa felt indifferent, then any fun for Koishi would disappear, and the two would drift apart.

This was… upsetting. The thought of that very real possibility made her angry, in a way that past losses or moving apart had not. Even parting from her old master, she had been prepared for.

She cut her thoughts off, however, to stay with Koishi. For now, potential futures had no relevance.

"I want to go with you." Koishi, at last, let go. She was smiling, but it was a distant, tired smile. "Into difference."

Marisa felt a lot of relief, and then considerable worry. "You know anything I can help with?"

"No, no, I don't know anything. But you can try. I _remember_ you. I'll come see you, alright? I want to see who you are in thoughts. I only know," she added, "what you _feel_ like."

Marisa grinned. "Alright! Face first into the unknown. Now _that_ sounds like my kind of plan."

Koishi smiled, and floated into the air, in her odd fashion. "I'm… going to go, I think. Thanks!"

"You think?"

And then, Koishi was gone, and Marisa remembered only after the fact that she had said "Yep!" and "Bye!".

＊ ＊ ＊

In terms of emotional content, it had been a long day for Marisa. It left her with a lot to think about, as it was.

For now, she was stuck on Koishi, and on that matter, herself. She'd felt upset at the possibility they'd simply drift apart as who they were, and had felt equal parts relief and worry at the fact Koishi _wanted_ to change.

Cowardice was a lot easier to accept, she thought, when the coward was incapable of lying to themselves. Koishi was running from her problems with that closed third eye, yes, but that strange lack of thought seemed to define her – it would be easy not to appreciate her, for most, but hard to take anything she did personally.

Still, Marisa wanted her friends to be _people_ , not… well, not anything else.

And that brought her back to the first thought. Why, if she had lost friends and casually discarded connections rather than force any personal preference, did this particular possibility upset and relieve her? What was different?

That sort of stupid, emotional, thoughtless reaction sounded a whole lot like a…

A…

Crap.

Marisa rolled over in bed, and consigned away hours of sleep to decidedly _not_ thinking for once. This was not something she had any plan to handle, consider, or otherwise work with, especially in the current situation.


	6. Chapter 6 - Door Without a Handle

Koishi wanted to (pieces put together) think. Deciding (scary) was unknown (pain? There was pain). Unknown (fears and pain (where were they?)) needed thought (impossible(feeling twice over)); decision without thought (dangerous(foolish)).

Frustration! (New feeling(not pleasant)) There was no way to decide. Koishi (self) was frustrated. She didn't want to be (not again(not before(not like this))). She (really) didn't want to be.

Decision; frustration. She reached for her eye (third(self(everything…))). That eye (unknown(everything(running from))) she couldn't change. How (why(to move with the world))).

Move with the world…

Everything (not everything) was strange (scary(but exciting)).

＊ ＊ ＊

 _With the world…_

Satori snapped to attention, all other thoughts lost in an instant.

She'd heard a voice, a thought - _her sister's_.

The rest was quiet, without incidence – quiet the way Koishi had been for many years. But those few words had been an audible thought from her sister.

She didn't know where Koishi was – trying to establish a sense of direction was meaningless without that subconscious awareness of what a direction was. If her sister didn't want to be found, she wouldn't be.

But this was the first thought she'd heard from Koishi since the closing of her third eye, and it brought two things: terror, and joy.

She had always believed, on most levels, that her sister would never again grow up, never again move on in life. Hope, of course, always existed on some level… but it had seemed a useless daydream for a while now.

She was happy to be wrong. She had always felt, on some level, that the world had cheated her sister – that it was unfair that somebody who so genuinely enjoyed everything about the world would be driven to close herself off from it so completely.

The terror, of course, came with the unknown. Satori could not say, even in the slightest, what could now change, for better or for worse. Her sister had always been joyful, but her scars were great, and how they would begin to play out when time resumed its course was unpredictable – and, most likely, painful.

Satori's shock was not to end, however. Her sister came walking into plain view – no appearance, no retroactive realization, no surprise. Koishi Komeiji had entered sight, completely, mundanely noticeable.

She was frustrated. She looked tired and irritated, and she wore an uncharacteristic frown.

"Sis?" Her third eye was still closed.

Satori smiled, in spite of her fears. "Yes, Koishi?"

"I can't… decide." Koishi looked down, kicking at the floor.

Satori could guess - approximately - what she meant. "Why not?"

"It's scary. And I can't _remember_. I can't think…" she paused, and managed to finish her sentence. "About it."

Satori was impressed. Even with her thoughts all but blinded, she had been focusing her attention on the issue. "Can you open it?" She asked.

"Yeah. It's scary."

"I understand. I don't know what will happen if you do," said Satori, taking a step forward. "But you want to, don't you?"

"…yeah." Koishi's gaze was still focused downward.

Satori took one more step forward, and wrapped her arms around her sister, hugging her tightly.

To her surprise, Koishi hugged her back. "You're happy and sad and afraid, sis…"

"I am."

Koishi had once been affectionate, in her own, child-like way. If one thing had _changed_ when she had closed her third eye, rather than simply freezing in place, it was that she had not accepted any comfort or affection afterwards – it reminded her of the pain that it followed, perhaps.

And so, perhaps because it had been so many years, Satori found herself to be everything her sister had said. She was overjoyed, perhaps selfishly, she was sad, the years apart all made painfully clear now, and she was afraid, afraid of the future that could now mean anything.

She held back her tears, still. It was hard.

"She was happy and afraid too. Everyone who cares would be, wouldn't they?" Koishi was shaking, ever so slightly. What she wanted to face was, by definition, utterly unknown. One could not consider a decision without conscious thought, only rush headfirst into the terrifying truth of that unknown.

"Yes, they would be." Satori closed her eyes. "It's okay to be afraid, Koishi. Everyone is, sometimes."

"I don't want to be afraid."

"We can't just ignore our fears, if we want them to go away." Satori did not let go of her sister. "We have to face them, in the end. Sometimes it's hard. Sometimes they're worth being afraid of. But…"

"Marisa said it, too. I'm not less scared."

"I know." Satori said no more.

Koishi held on for what seemed to stretch into hours, and Satori allowed it. She could feel her sister's fear, her frustration – even without thought, it seemed that she was trying to open up.

And at last, Koishi let go. She looked Satori in the eye, and did not smile or frown. She was focused, even if she couldn't see her own thoughts.

She had, Satori thought, made her decision, all fear and thoughtlessness aside.

"I'm going… to try. I don't know where. Don't know when, don't know why, don't know how."

Satori smiled, holding her fear back. "You're always welcome here, alright? You'll be safe here, so you can always come back, when you need to."

Koishi nodded. "Thanks, sis."

"Stay safe," said Satori.

And with that, Koishi was gone.

Satori found a seat and took it, still somewhat in shock. She was tearing up, but she was also happier than she had… well, than she could ever remember being. There were many conflicting feelings.

She came to attention with the aid of a hand on her shoulder.

"You okay?" It was Orin, with a look of simple, genuine concern.

Satori shook her head. "I'm fine. It's just… Koishi, she's… moving."

"Eh?" Orin tilted her head, still a bit confused, and Satori pulled her into a hug without further notice. For now, she was vulnerable, confused, and overjoyed. For now, she was not the mistress of the palace.

Orin, while confused, was always warm. She hugged Satori back, wordlessly.

"I'm sorry," Satori said quietly.

"For what?"

"I'm not much myself right now, am I?" Satori closed her eyes.

"Happens to everyone, sometimes. You'll be okay, won't ya?"

"Of course."

＊ ＊ ＊

It was time to move (time to move). Move (with the world(move with the world)). Koishi's feelings were pointed (towards what(moving)) now.

She wanted…

She wanted to see (She wanted to _see_ ).

She knew nothing (where(why(how?))).

There were trees here (witch(Marisa?)).

Koishi sat down (did she?). Looked to third eye (self(everything(she was afraid of))).

She put one hand over her third eye.

It was time (time to wake up(time to feel again)).

＊ ＊ ＊

Marisa Kirisame felt her emotions drop like a rock. With absolutely no precedent, her feelings seemed more wounded than they'd been since… since a long time ago.

It was almost impossible to focus – overwhelming anxiety and rising adrenaline all but ended any coherent thought halfway through.

One, simple thought rose above the rest. _Koishi._

Marisa bolted towards the door, so urgent in her immediate quest that she didn't even bother with her hat or broomstick – style had been discarded.

She didn't know where to go, and outside, she froze for a moment, realizing the decision she had to make: Koishi was always where she shouldn't be, always hidden away where the mind said she obviously wouldn't be.

But if she meant to change, to become a _person_ …

Marisa gritted her teeth, made a choice, and took flight.

＊ ＊ ＊

 _I hate you!_

 _She's always judging us, she can see us, she can tell._

 _I never wanted her help. I know she hates us._

 _She thinks she's better than us, I know she does, and she's so fucking cheerful about it._

Koishi gasped for breath, and couldn't seem to find it.

Everything – every moment, every thought she'd read, every shred of hate that had once weighed on her – had come back.

Everything was _just as bad_ as it had always been. All her feelings – the same.

She couldn't breathe.

 _She'd do the same to us if she had the chance._

 _Don't let her get away!_

 _She thinks that act can fool us?_

She really couldn't breathe. It was too much – all of it was too much. Was this going to kill her? How could nothing kill her?

 _She's seen who I am, I know she hates me._

 _I know myself, and I'm the only one who hates myself – she has to understand. She has to._

There was no time between the present and the pain that she had closed her eye on. Now _was_ then. She'd never moved.

 _Can't she just close it?_

 _She must love making us all uncomfortable._

 _If I had a third eye, I'd be nice enough to stay home._

It was _too much_.

Koishi reached for her third eye. Her hands were shaking, her vision was blurry – she was seeing spots – and she couldn't _remember_ how she'd closed it.

All of her had burnt out, then. She'd just gone to sleep, and… when had she woken up? She couldn't remember.

Maybe it was all a dream until now. Maybe they were going to find her and kill her and she'd just been dreaming that anything had changed. Maybe that would be _better_.

She couldn't close it – she didn't know _how_ to close it.

She grabbed her third eye, all but helpless, and screamed.

＊ ＊ ＊

Alice Margatroid hadn't really had time to think. She had noticed all of two things in a hurry.

First of all, Marisa had gone roaring past at entirely unsafe speeds. That much was relatively standard fare.

Second of all, however, she had gone by without her hat – which all but defied physics as she flew – and without a broom. Marisa Kirisame had gone rushing by _,_ lacking in matters of _style_.

Whatever was going on, it was both unprecedented and serious.

Alice sighed, fetched her grimoire, and went to follow.

＊ ＊ ＊

 _She deserves this._

 _Just do it, then we'll never have to worry about it again._

 _Kill one, and the rest of them will run. They're all cowards, I know it._

Koishi couldn't scream anymore. Her throat was dry and everything hurt. She couldn't see clearly. She couldn't hear the world.

She could hear hatred. The world wanted her to die.

 _I'm coming, just you hold on._

She curled up more tightly. She couldn't make anything stop hurting. Everything was broken and she didn't know how to fix it.

 _I feel ya. You're safe, just hold on…_

"Here," she choked out. She didn't know who she was talking to, and she certainly didn't know why.

 _You're gonna be alright…_

Touch enveloped her overloaded senses. Black, white, yellow, and skin made up her new vision. She recognized a voice, but she couldn't make it out – everything was a blur.

She curled up more tightly and cried, and something held her.

"I'm here, Koishi."

Marisa… Kirisame, was the name that memory gave her.

She didn't remember how she met this person, but she knew she'd met them. It happened… _after_ she closed her eye.

There was _time_. Time between her eye and this witch, time between the pain and whatever _now_ was.

She was in so much pain.

She was safe.

 _You're safe now, okay? I'm here_.

Koishi looked up. She was still crying. Her voice was still coarse. Her feelings still broken into a million pieces. She could _see_.

"Why…" it was her own voice. Koishi was sure. "Why are you crying?"

Marisa smiled. She _was_ crying. "I can feel it, you dork."

"Are they gone?"

"They're gone. It's just you and me, here. I'll take you down to see your sister, okay? You'll be alright."

Koishi made a sound – she wasn't sure what it was, or what it meant – and buried her face in Marisa's clothing.

The world – now in the background – faded.

＊ ＊ ＊

Marisa paused for a moment, making sure Koishi really _was_ asleep, before lifting her up.

If there was any small mercy in this, it was that it was easy to empathize with somebody who would literally share their feelings. The pain, the anxiety, the crippling fear, the pure hatred – all of them had been overwhelming, only matched by Marisa's refusal to be made a slave to them.

She wondered, briefly, if anyone else had felt it. Her gut told her no, and with Koishi, she trusted that intuition.

She looked down to Koishi's sleeping form. She'd had a panic attack that she must have thought was killing her.

It seemed like the truth of the matter was that when Koishi had closed her third eye, she really _had_ stopped. Feeling at all after years of nothing would be a wild ride in and of itself – people were crazy – but having everything she'd locked away come back like it was still happening must have been too much.

She looked again. Koishi's third eye was open. It looked tired, bloodshot even, which… wasn't terribly surprising, given the years in which it hadn't seen use. Most importantly, though, she hadn't closed it again.

She did, however, remember Marisa. Whatever impression she had made on Koishi's unconscious self, it had spilled over into her newfound consciousness.

Marisa sighed, and looked about her surroundings to figure out where she was.

It was then she realized that she was not, in fact, alone.

"…Alice?" She asked, altogether dumbfounded.

"…What did you…" Alice stopped, and then looked slightly mortified – if she was trying to hide, she'd altogether forgotten to.

Marisa reached to adjust her hat, and found nothing.

Crap.

"Well… uh, you caught me!" Marisa put on her best grin. She'd been caught entirely out of character, but damn it, she'd go down with dignity.

"Caught you doing _what_?"

"It's a kidnapping, clearly!"

"Where's your hat? Where's your broom?" Any embarrassment Alice felt at being caught was quickly being overtaken by some degree of outrage.

"I didn't think you'd recognize me without them!" Marisa forced her grin. She might be tired, and she probably looked like she'd been crying, since, well, she had, but that didn't mean she had to give anybody anything.

"You didn't—I've known you since—" Alice stopped, and took a deep breath. "Fine. Are you alright, then?"

"What's this? Concern? I think outrage works better for busting a kidnapping."

Alice sighed, and brought one hand to her forehead in clear exasperation. Marisa couldn't help but laugh.

"Well, I can tell you're still you, either way." Alice's expression was not quite normal, but for the most part, she hid her concern well. She had always been a relatively contained person, all snark aside. "If you don't want to talk about it, that's… ugh, that's fine. We can catch up later, take her wherever you need to."

"Hey, you _want_ to be in the know on _my_ personal life?" No time, it seemed, was too serious for bothering Alice.

"No, I just—" Alice waved a hand, her annoyance clear. "Just forget it. Take her where you have to. We can talk some other time."

"Fine, fine. I'll see you around, then!" Marisa waved, and Alice departed.

Marisa took a moment to orient herself, planning a trip to a deserted hell, and then took off, Koishi in arms.

＊ ＊ ＊

Satori's worry had been great since Koishi had left. The reasons for this were obvious enough, but it was hard to contain nonetheless. It'd been years since Satori had felt – presently, and for good reason – so strongly about her sister. She had always carried sorrow and regret – she had not held prudent worry for many years.

She wasn't sure if it was that echo of her baby sister that kept this worry so persistent, or if she'd simply forgotten how to manage such emotions. It had only gotten worse as the day went on, and she could only hope there was no reason.

That, however, seemed not to be the case.

"Satori!" Orin said. Her tone was altogether urgent, and she was rarely anything but laid back. "Somebody wants in to see you. It's the witch from the incident—"

"Marisa Kirisame. Let her—"

"She's got Koishi!"

Satori froze. It was easy to tell that something significant and unusual had taken place from the simple fact that Marisa hadn't broken in, and yet… this was more than she'd expected.

"Let her in." Satori's voice was cold.

And then Marisa came flying in, landing beside Satori. Koishi was, indeed, in her arms, and seemingly asleep.

Her third eye was open. It was not moving, not looking around, as was the case with sleep – but it was open.

She ran to her sister's side. Marisa spoke before she could question anything.

"Where's her room?"

Satori pointed, and then lead the way, Marisa deposited Koishi in her bed, and then let out a great sigh.

"What happened?" asked Satori. Concern was seeping into her tone now, but she didn't care.

"She opened her third eye, obviously." Marisa shook her head. "Way it seems to work, when you close your third eye, you really _do_ freeze. No new memory, no new experience… no sense of time."

Marisa was altogether tired out – her thoughts synced with her speech, and little more.

"That means…?" Satori asked.

"When she opened her third eye, it was like she was on the same day she closed it. Everything came rushing back, just as bad as when it made her close it, except she hadn't had a real feeling for years.

"Totally overwhelming. I could feel my emotions just drop like a rock, which is why I came running. She was… well, she was panicking."

"Is… she alright?" Satori's worry overtook her composure.

"She calmed down a bit when I got there. I just held her, thought and said she was safe, it'd be alright – all of that stuff. She remembered me, though."

Satori smiled, worry now burning away. "…She would."

"She didn't close her third eye. I dunno if she tried – was she like this before?" Marisa's expression was… focused, and Satori heard her thoughts follow _. I bet she burned out, back then. Stopped feeling anything, and some part of her said that'd be better than feeling anything again. Not like now – all those years of energy and carefree attitude… she was anything but burned out now, huh?_

"That would be correct. She was nothing but tired when she returned to the palace to sleep - when she would then wake with a closed third eye." Satori stood up, and Marisa stayed in her place.

"You can rest, now, if you need to – I doubt she'll wake for a while."

Marisa smiled, although it wasn't the charismatic, insane grin that she was known for. "I'm staying the night, if that's alright." She paused, and then corrected herself, "actually, I'm staying either way."

Satori smiled. "I'll get some seats. I'm not going to leave my sister, for now, so I hope you don't mind."

The witch gave a tired grin. "Suit yourself," she said, "I'm just not gonna get any sleep anywhere else after all that."

"Mm, I'm inclined to say the same. I'll let Rin know we have a guest."

"The cat?"

"Yes."

 _And I thought_ —

"I'm sure she'll be slightly offput, but I _am_ the mistress here."

"Alright. I'm just gonna drop, then."

"Make yourself at home, for now. And don't steal anything."

"On any other day…"

"We can play break-in when my sister's not involved, thank you very much."

"Fiiiine…" Marisa waved her hand. "I won't steal anything, just this once, so don't worry."

"Thank you." Satori turned for the door, and allowed herself to accept relief. The next days would be difficult in their own right, no doubt, but for now, things had calmed.

She found a couple chairs, and realized that carrying chairs large enough to actually sleep with was all but implausible. Whatever had happened, her grip on, well, anything was tenuous at best. Orin, on the other hand, was already there. She was not formal – in a traditional sense, she was not a good servant – but in all practical truth, she was entirely reliable.

The rest was a blur. Orin dealt with all the little mundane matters that took thought, for now, and Satori would thank her in the morning. Marisa, one way or another, was already asleep.

Satori took one look at her sister, and promptly followed suit.


	7. Chapter 7 - Countless Tiny Stories

Koishi rolled over in bed, the waking world overcoming whatever dreams she had broken free of.

She was… she was… thoughts – thoughts came one after another now. She could remember what passed through her mind, her feelings.

Feeling was overwhelming, almost. The bed was soft, and blankets surrounded her – they were comforting, at least more so than the outside world would be. Feeling itself was not overwhelming, but registering everything was.

Her mind took in so much information, sorting so much of it automatically. To think again was overwhelming.

But the last input it had taken in was more hate than anything else. Beyond that, there was safety, comfort, somehow.

She still hurt. Nothing she could recognize as physical pain was present, but her feelings cried tones of pain – wishing to be gone, wishing to be deaf again.

She looked over, past the bed, trying to change the mental landscape with strange, new input.

"Morning, Koishi."

Her mind – her instincts – matched the voice she heard to the name Marisa Kirisame, and she begun to hear… voice without voice. Thoughts. Thoughts that were not her own.

 _I guess Satori's still tired out. Well, she's still asleep, at any rate. But is Koishi—_

"Oh. Right. Sorry. Are you alright?" Marisa smiled, and small joys mixed with the pain.

"It still hurts," Koishi replied, curling up a little.

 _Well, hopefully she hasn't learned to hide anything_. "Can I help? Anything ya want?"

Koishi was barely sure what Marisa's thought meant. What would she hide here? What _had_ she been hiding?

She could remember the black and white magician, despite the blindness her memory seemed to have for that stretch of time. A closed third eye lacked much memory.

Marisa Kirisame was, in memory, safe, fun, accepting. All things she'd wished more people had been.

Turning over unfamiliar thoughts, Koishi returned to the question at hand. "Can you come here? Like you did before."

 _Like up above before? Well—_

"Yeah, like then…" Koishi looked over to the witch.

Marisa was up and moving in an instant. Koishi could feel warmth – kindness? – in intent, even if her thoughts were often too fast to make sense of.

Koishi reached out with both arms, and Marisa slid into bed and enveloped her. Koishi didn't know if this was weird – "what would people think" was a phrase that came with pain and fear, still.

But for now, it was comfort. Marisa was safe, and warm, and in that affection and intent, it seemed to Koishi that she could still feel – even feelings that were not her own.

And now, the pain was dulled. It was still there – old thoughts and wounds that seemed recent, harsh judgments and wishes of death – but it seemed a blur compared to the quiet, accepting here and now.

Some time passed like this, Marisa now quiet, her mind occupied with small mantras of comfort more than anything else. It was an odd, new sensation – that anyone more than family could quietly accept the worst, could stay here providing any comfort they could. The world before had taught Koishi that only family would ever stay. Marisa Kirisame was an exception to many, many things.

It was still a scary possibility.

"Are you going to stay?" asked Koishi, stirring a little.

"Unless you want me to leave, yeah."

"I don't." Koishi curled up a little, and Marisa adjusted her position slightly, still holding on.

 _I'm sorry,_ came one thought that Koishi could pick out.

"For what?" she asked.

"I can still feel your pain," said Marisa. "Not as clearly as before, not as strongly, but it's still there. I'm not sorry for something I did, just… sorry it's all so hard, I guess."

"When does it stop hurting?"

"I don't know," said Marisa. "The more time you give something in the past, the less it hurts. I don't know if it ever really goes away, though…" She shook her head. "I can be here for the pain, I can be someone you turn to when you need to fight it. I can be safe for you when everything's scary."

 _But I can't make it disappear_.

Koishi wasn't ready yet. Everything still hurt, and the thought of the entire world beyond her own room even made her body feel odd. Her breaths – if that's what she was paying attention to, now – were still uneven and hard to take.

It was still strange, putting together words and pictures in her head, remembering what had never physically happened.

For now, she wasn't ready. Sleep, she thought, would still be better, when it came.

She clung to Marisa and, as much as she could, allowed the world to fade.

＊ ＊ ＊

Marisa could tell when Koishi had fallen asleep; her own feelings calmed a little, and the satori's breathing became even and rhythmic.

It occurred to her that she was not, in fact, going anywhere for some time now – Koishi, in sleep, was still clinging, curled up against Marisa's chest.

Marisa wasn't sure if moving – or leaving to do, well, anything else – would wake her, but she didn't care to try. Koishi's feelings were raw, painful, and fearful – to add abandonment to them would be cruel at best and catastrophic at worst. Recovery, it seemed, would be a slow road – each step was new to Koishi, and any step that wasn't was surrounded in a history of hate and fear.

Marisa had felt the pain, the fear, the hatred – Koishi had shared it, unintentionally. It was odd, to actually _feel_ what another felt, as if reality had been painted in intuition, rather than the reverse.

When she had first met Mima, the ghost that was her first teacher, she had felt the anger and the hatred that belied her carefree demeanor, been unable to shake the feeling that each small cruelty given in jest came from a feeling that was, itself, no joke.

She had always been angry. She'd hated _everyone_.

But the strength of that feeling, such that Marisa had taken a vibe intuitively to heart, seemed at the center of the feelings that Koishi had shared. Where Marisa had seen and guessed feelings behind action before, she now _felt_ what she suspected, and it had hurt.

Marisa wasn't sure what Koishi could share, if she would have been able to reach anyone else had she somehow tried. Was it that intuition? Was it what she knew about the odd satori from observation and guessing, what odd hunches and guesses had crossed her mind?

Right now, everything was in the air. No theory could be tested, and it seemed Koishi had yet to entirely relearn the odd processes of thinking and feeling. It was all Marisa could do to focus her thoughts, to keep them pointedly on one topic, to think mantras of safety rather than strange or dangerous possibilities. After years of quiet, Koishi's perception was slow and sensitive, uncertain and easily overwhelmed, and Marisa might have been slightly more relaxed, slightly less careful if she hadn't felt it all herself.

Koishi, she thought, was not fragile now, not as she thought of it – to be fragile would be to avoid the pain, to flee the heavy load rather than be broken by it.

Koishi now wore her burdens. She was broken… but then again, who wasn't in some way or another? Everyone was weird in some way or another; everyone could find something to improve on.

Marisa's thoughts ran into the background of her mind as she became aware of another waking presence in the room, staring at her with an eyebrow raised.

"She woke up, and I was awake," said Marisa, looking to Satori. "I didn't want to wake you up if she didn't want me to. Worry's tiring, and it's not a good idea to handle stress on no sleep."

"And she asked for this," replied Satori, still looking at the two of them with some disbelief.

"Yeah. Not that I mind." Marisa gave a small grin. "Sometimes you gotta start by stealing the interesting stuff!"

"Stealing, hm?" Satori managed a small smile. "Well, so far, you've been the most trustworthy thief I've ever known."

"Only 'cause of that eye." Marisa said, thinking of the many lies she would still happily throw out in the face of mind-reading.

"I dare say it's my sister that provides the reliability factor I'm thinking of. You're kind, although you certainly do a good job of making that a surprise." Satori's smile now seemed more comfortable on her face, knowing and in good humor where it was uncertain before.

"Well, shucks." Marisa gave a shrug, and the movement reminded her of the sleeping form still resting on her. "Well, I don't think I'm going anywhere for a while."

"I wish I could give you any estimate, but I'm afraid this is all as new to me as it is to you." Satori looked around, and let out a sigh. When she spoke again, her tone was even, and her posture was altogether proper.

"If you're to be our guest here, then I ought to show you the proper hospitality," she said, her expression now contained and polite. "Although I am afraid I am a little late to wake, could I interest you in breakfast?"

Marisa stopped for a moment, thought about it, and realized that no, she hadn't eaten since she'd brought Koishi in. "Well… yeah, actually. When she wakes up."

Marisa paused, and then raised a hand.

"I can assure you, whatever rumors you may have heard about the cuisine here, the truth isn't nearly as interesting."

"'May have'?" Marisa hadn't realized that manners involved pretending a guest's mind wasn't actually on display, although it was not a surprising leap to make.

"That does depend on whether you've heard the rumors you spread."

＊ ＊ ＊

Koishi, Marisa thought, was a little bit like a pet. Not forever, and not before, but for the moment: wherever Marisa went, she followed.

Surprisingly, Koishi didn't seem to have lost any of her previous abilities – she was still hard to notice, still seeming to simply exist where she hadn't before with no entry. The exposed pain of her feelings still seeped through to Marisa, who counteracted them with any feeling of comfort and acceptance she could muster.

And indeed, it was Marisa that she followed for safety. She wasn't altogether certain why this was the case – whether it was from earlier interaction, from being the first one there when pain had come flooding back, or simply for the odd contents of her mind.

Marisa felt Koishi raise her hand – she knew better, still, than to question how she did – and turned around. "Yes?"

"Do you always think about me this much?" Koishi asked, no humor or sarcasm coloring her tone.

Well. That was a little embarrassing.

"I didn't always," Marisa said, opting for honesty. Lying was fun, but lying to Koishi now seemed like a terrible, terrible idea. "But I guess I do, now."

"Since when?" Koishi asked. Everything about her radiated vulnerability.

 _Since you opened your eye._ Marisa hadn't even started to reply when Koishi answered.

"Oh."

Sometimes, she read quickly, and other times, she'd get lost in the subsequent trains of thought.

"But not before?" Koishi asked.

"Hmmm… maybe a bit before," Marisa replied. "When you started showing up around my place a lot. I thought you were really interesting…"

" 'But you'd never change, and I don't think I could've stayed with you like that'." Koishi said, still reading thoughts. "You think a lot, but sometimes you focus on one like you're saying it out loud…"

That much, Marisa knew was deliberate. Her thoughts were a mess, a wild storm of different topics both intersecting and irrelevant, and she didn't want to flood Koishi's rediscovered perception.

"…thank you."

Marisa smiled. It still felt weird to smile – rather than give her trademark, insane, chaotic grin. Smiling for comfort was rather different from signaling chaos with an expression. "You're still welcome at my house up above. Even if it's one big mess."

Koishi nodded. "It's still scary," she said. "It's hurting less."

"Time away does that. If the people who hated you are gone now, then it'll get easier the longer you wait."

Marisa still had to make one trip back up to get her hat and her broom. She felt altogether unlike herself without them – how could she call herself Marisa Kirisame without her witch's attire?

"Can I come with you?" Koishi asked, now floating in her odd manner. It didn't seem so carefree or random as before, although Marisa wasn't sure whether it meant anything.

"If you want!" Marisa was, in spite of herself, worried – she could still feel the fear and the pain, and it was hard to think as recklessly when no feeling could be ignored.

She wasn't going to keep Koishi trapped anywhere she didn't want to be, though.

"I know you can't protect me from everything," Koishi said, floating past Marisa in a direction that didn't quite feel right. "I can still feel your worry…"

So the subconscious trickery wasn't lost to the opening of her third eye. Marisa chuckled, recalling the chaos at the library, but set it aside. Maybe in the future…

"Yeah! I wanna come with you then, too! You find neat things everywhere you go. So I wanna follow you everywhere."

Koishi, while less random, was still tactless. Marisa, of course, couldn't find it in herself to care any less.

"Well, I don't mind. You've made everything interesting so far, and it doesn't look like you're going to stop!" Marisa wondered for a moment just how different things were now – what remained of the impulsive, chaotic, joyful Koishi that had sealed her depth away. If Satori was to be believed…

"Let's go!" Koishi said, and Marisa became retroactively aware of the weight on her shoulders.

Marisa grinned, and took flight, managing to avoid any major damage to the palace on her way out. Passing Satori, she managed a "hiheadingupKoishi'scomingwithwe'llbebackbye" in properly incomprehensible fashion, and then gained the reckless speed that any self-respecting witch was meant to have.

Distance became a blur, and Marisa let herself relax in the face of bizarre, impulsive adventure.

＊ ＊ ＊

Marisa Kirisame, the black and white (monochrome) witch, was safety, right now.

Koishi could feel memories that she couldn't make her mind – awkward, slow, and deliberate as it was – recall. She'd spent time with the witch when her eye had been closed – and more than once. Her feelings, her subconscious told her that they'd had little adventures.

Marisa Kirisame remembered her. Marisa Kirisame could _feel_ her, and Marisa Kirisame didn't seem to care – whatever Koishi was, that was alright in her book.

Koishi realized she was upside-down, and then realized she didn't quite understand how she was actually still attached to Marisa. Some odd things, her feelings said, didn't change.

 _And that's just fine_.

"Is anybody else going to be there?" Koishi asked. The thought of anybody new was still daunting – Marisa was safe, her sister was safe, the others at the palace were safe. Anyone else…

Anyone else could still hate her.

"I dunno for sure. Alice was kinda worried, and I've been out, but my house's all kinds of messed up, so nobody'd want to stick around there. I made sure of that one!"

Marisa wasn't sure, though. Koishi could feel the slight uncertainty, the small worry on her own behalf, and she could see the thoughts pondering the odds.

The odds weren't zero, although more than that was too fast and too much for Koishi to pick out. Marisa's thoughts were all over the place – not quite like most people's. There was always some chaos, but hers was faster, and far, far more constant.

Koishi liked it. She wasn't the center of everything, and every judgment was just another small guess to add to an infinite pile. All of it was fun, and all of it was changing.

＊ ＊ ＊

Marisa took some care to avoid the various piles in her house. She knew which ones were just a pain, and which ones were critical structural support for two or three piles next to them.

Koishi still seemed to inherit that knowledge, in one way or another. It was odd, the number of strange, subconscious habits that had formed during a time that seemed to lack memory or time – strange, at least, that they still remained.

Marisa certainly didn't mind, though. She had been worried, on some level, that Koishi's particularly unique brand of interaction might vanish with the realization of herself as a person. Now that it was clear that wasn't the case, she was glad.

It made the future just a little brighter, and that was a warm thought, although Marisa still didn't care to think much about what the future meant.

Stepping over another pile, Marisa found her broom, and Koishi passed her hat to her without word.

"Thanks," she said, taking it without missing a beat. Placing it on her head, she threw out a proper, insane grin. "Thaaaat's better," she said. "I was starting to feel all serious, y'know?"

Koishi was now flying counter-intuitive patterns through the cramped space of Marisa's house. Her pain had fallen to the back of her mind, for now.

"Well, that's all I needed," Marisa said, adjusting one pile of books in the hopes it would hold for a little longer while she was out.

Turning messes into temporary, active architecture was in all likelihood not entirely sound design for a house. It was, however, more fun, and Marisa knew where she'd rather place her efforts.

"Anything else you want to see?" She asked.

Koishi looked in a direction that didn't have anything. "Oh," she said, "outside."

"Eh?"

Marisa followed her out the door, and Koishi pointed at a tree. "Someone's there."

"Oh," said Marisa with a grin. "One sec, then…" she said, producing a device she hadn't used in a little too long – the Hakkero.

Her grin widened, and she pointed it where Koishi had pointed. "Master…"

"Wait!"

"SPARK!" She fired without a moment's pause, and fluorescent light consumed her line of sight for a moment.

When it cleared, Alice was to the side, clearly prepared enough to have dodged. "Hey, Alice, didn't see you there!"

"I'm sure," said Alice, her expression in its default, unimpressed state. A few dolls were out and armed, and Marisa raised her hands in mock surrender. "No fighting now! I'm still with her," she said, pointing to thin air.

Alice looked to Koishi despite where Marisa had pointed, and then visibly paused a moment to reorient herself, which only disoriented her again.

Alice moved one doll idly, withdrawing it from the air, and Koishi moved in bizarre, opposite, artificial motion, seemingly in sync.

"What are – what's – MARISA!"

Koishi floated by, giggling. "You really _do_ blame her before thinking…"

Alice's eyes widened. "You…"

Koishi stopped, and took one step back, and Marisa could feel all manner of tensions rise. Alice, contained and often secretive, had been entirely read by Koishi… whose species could naturally read minds. Alice didn't seem to be taking it terribly well, and Koishi could tell.

Both of them looked to Marisa, who looked between the two.

She spoke to Alice first. "Yes, she's a satori, yes, she messes with your reflex too, and yes, that third eye was closed before." She paused a moment to consider mockery, but she could feel Koishi's scars making themselves known. Koishi sensed fear, and from that, feared hate.

"I'm going to be dead serious here, 'cause there's a lot of issues still out there. You don't have to hang around with your mind on display, we can catch up another time – again – but _don't_ blame her for what she is."

Alice looked at Marisa, and then nodded. Marisa was rarely serious, and Alice had known her long enough to understand what this meant. "Alright, I understand," she said, looking slightly exasperated. "But make some time. This is all a little _too_ much to ignore."

"Yeah, yeah, you got it," said Marisa. "Anyways, I'm off, then. Sorry if you were actually… worried? Eh, that'd be silly anyways." Marisa hopped on her broom, and Koishi was in front of her, behind her.

She waved to Alice, and with that, they were off.

"Sorry about that," Marisa said, taking the flight slowly for a bit. "She doesn't hate you, I promise."

"Will she?" Koishi's voice was not yet weighted with any sorrow, but it was uncertain.

"No. She's just not used to sharing her thoughts. She doesn't go out too much, either – she's just not a people person." Marisa looked back to see Koishi lacking in her usual, careless, physics-defying posture.

"She's known me for a long time, and we get along. Sorta." Marisa gave Koishi a small grin, trying to set aside her share of Koishi's worry. "She won't hate you if she doesn't think you're trying to upset her, and she trusts me when I'm serious."

Koishi was uncertain, and that much was clear. She was not distrustful, Marisa thought – she felt pain and worry, but no suspicion or outright despair – but it was hard to separate the past from the present. The time between the two was still ephemeral.

The rest of the trip was silent, and Marisa settled on the careless – or careful, now – acceptance that was her default. Koishi, still broken, pained, and adjusting, was not by any means closed, and for better or for worse, she trusted Marisa.

＊ ＊ ＊

Koishi walked through the Palace of the Earth Spirits alone, for now.

It was home, she knew, and parts of her were willing to accept that was safe. Feelings of fear and loneliness remained, but they were not overwhelming.

Marisa had thought to herself that she could really use a bit of time alone. Koishi was sure she hadn't thought it deliberately, but she could understand – if her feelings really were shared, it would be tiring to stay with her all day. Beyond that, Marisa seemed to be the kind of person with her own life – active in many, many little ways.

It was that odd, adventuring lifestyle that made Koishi want to follow her, even if her path went took her into new places, with all the terror they still held. In adventure, in the witch's bizarre way of facing everything, Koishi _wanted_ to move.

And so, for now, she had left Marisa to relax. She had always had a hard time understanding _why_ people thought what they did, but their desires themselves were understandable.

"Koishi?"

She snapped to attention to see one of her sister's pets – the cat, Rin. Orin, they called her. She almost stepped back, but her feelings – Orin's feelings – overtook her.

Surprise. Relief. Confusion.

And then… joy? Joy and tears. It was confusing.

Orin was upon her, pulling her into a tight hug in a moment, and Koishi returned the gesture. There was no rage, no malice, nothing unsafe here.

"You really did open that eye of yours," Orin said. "No wonder…"

Koishi said nothing, but Orin went on. "It's been a long time, y'know? I didn't think I'd catch you on your own, but…"

Orin lifted her into the air, and let her go upon setting her down again. "It's true. I mean, 'course it's true, Satori wouldn't lie, but…" she shook her head. "She's really, really happy, y'know. She didn't think you'd ever open that eye again."

"Sis is… happy?" Koishi was confused, but glad.

"She took it really hard. She didn't think it was all her fault, but…" _She didn't think much of it wasn't, either._

"But it wasn't!" Koishi's emotions, still sharp and untamed, rose. "She didn't do anything wrong…"

"I know, Koishi." Orin gave a sad smile. "I told her that an awful lot, y'know. But even if I couldn't read her mind like a Satori, I could see her face. I don't think anything would've really convinced her."

Koishi thought about this for a moment, and she couldn't find any way to disbelieve it. "Where's Sis, then?" she asked.

"In her room, now. She's tired, too, but she'd love to see ya." Orin gave a smile that Koishi could recall – almost a constant tic of her character.

"Okay!" Koishi waved, and took off – she didn't actually know where any room in the palace was, but if she tried to get there, she would. It was, now that she could think about it, a rather odd manner of knowledge, but not everything had to change.

"Sis!" she barged into the room, and Satori jumped; it looked like she'd been asleep.

"Koishi…?" Satori shook her head, reorienting herself, and thoughts began to fly. Koishi couldn't read them all – it was still hard, and there was still a lot of noise she couldn't filter out.

The thoughts, however, weren't important. Emotionally, Satori still radiated the care and safety that she tried to give. Her efforts, conscious or subconscious, were always clear.

Koishi hopped up to her, now slightly aware that her own unusual movements were, well, unusual, and then pulled her into a hug.

Satori's thoughts questioned, but she said nothing, and she held on to Koishi.

"It's… not your fault, okay?"

Koishi could feel the surprise, and she spoke the rest without word. _I know it still hurts, now. I know I got hurt, I know it was all sad and hopeless and painful._

 _I couldn't change anything._ Satori tightened her embrace.

 _You tried, Sis. You never hurt me, you didn't judge me, you even let me try to live my own life. You were afraid, but you were always a good sister. I was always safe here._

Koishi smiled, and closed her eyes. _I know it didn't end well, then. I know it's not all better, now, but it'll get better._

 _I'm sorry, Koishi._ Satori was crying; Koishi could feel it.

 _I know, sis. But you loved me then, and you still love me now. I can see it, I can_ feel _it now. And I love you too, okay? I wouldn't want anyone else to be my sis._

Koishi held on to her sister, feeling the sorrow, the relief, the joy, all mixed into one conflicted mess. She could feel the regret and the pain, see the many little thoughts wondering if the past could have been changed.

She could see them unraveling; regret for the past giving way to hope for the future. Her sister was afraid for her, but she was brave – she had faced that fear her entire life, and she had never let it control her.

Koishi, for once, was happy alongside her fear. She was afraid, and she was in pain – there were still many little broken pieces of herself – but she was happy. She could feel the excitement, the regrets finally crumbling away, the surprise, the hope for future that nobody had known could exist.

Koishi felt her sister's resolve return, felt her self become closer to the normal Satori, and she let go.

"Thank you," she said. "It's been so long…"

Koishi paused a moment, thinking of the change the world had suddenly taken on. The time she could not feel herself still made itself known all around her.

"Yeah," she said, "it has."

Satori smiled, and it was without distance or sorrow. Koishi floated into the air, slightly aware of her own movements, but still by and large without care.

A contented silence fell between them.

"I think Marisa has things to do," Koishi said at last. "Up above, I mean. I'll stay down here for the night."

"Does she?"

"She was thinking about it. I couldn't hear it all, 'cause she thinks all over the place when she's thinking to herself, but I think she wants me to meet her friends. Without surprising them _too_ much." Koishi looked down, but held her smile. Pain and joy found a balance – it was odd how one could encapsulate the other.

Koishi could see traces of her own thoughts as her sister read them.

"It's not a bad thing," Satori said. "Not everyone is used to having their minds exposed – but not everybody will be so averse to it if they're given some time to prepare. Sudden fear," she added, "still hurts, does it not?"

"Yeah…" said Koishi, kicking one foot out while sitting on nothing. "It turned into hate really fast, back then."

 _Back then_ still felt too close to _now_ , and Koishi was beginning to resent that. There were so many broken pieces that didn't fit anymore, all still feeling like the years hadn't passed at all.

"I know it's not the same now," she added, fidgeting with nothing. "I'm learning."

Satori nodded, and smiled. Acceptance was the feeling that she radiated – she was not terrified, and Koishi felt no pity from her.

"I'm gonna sleep," Koishi said at last. She was tired, and her dreams were always interesting. Sometimes, she spoke to others. Sometimes to herself – and sometimes to others that were really herself. Sometimes, they told her, and sometimes, they didn't.

Satori turned, and she still wore her tired, genuine smile. "Well, I _was_ sleeping, but I suppose I ought to get back to it. Sleep well," she added.

"You too!" Koishi waved, and from one room to another escaped her own perception.

Finding herself in something like her own bed, she laid sideways, and quietly stepped through her own, new, foreign thoughts. Consciousness, she felt, was still difficult. It was tiring, and for sleep, that wasn't bad.

Today, she decided, had had enough thought. She was tired, and sleep was her connection, now, to the time she'd lost.

Closing her eyes, she let her subconscious take over, and dreamed.


	8. Chapter 8 - One Great Puzzle

_Marisa shook her head as something floated by. It wasn't there, and it was Koishi._

" _Hey!" She said, smiling and waving. Marisa could tell_ something _was up. Everything felt… unreal._

… _Oh._

" _This is_ my _dream, y'know." She said, grabbing her hat from nowhere. Was this how normal functionality seemed to Koishi?_

" _I dunno. Dreaming doesn't feel weird to me, at least." Koishi floated about, and Marisa could, in this odd dream, see her thoughts. Slow and deliberate, they were all curious, all step by step._

 _Thoughts were new. Koishi hadn't really thought about anything for years, and it meant she would have to learn again._

 _But she was learning, and she was excited to – Marisa could feel it. It was almost impossible to tell – almost – whose excitement that really was._

" _So what're you doing here, anyway?" Said Marisa, paying no attention to her movement. In a dreamscape, it probably wound up looking like Koishi's movements really did._

" _I dunno! Sometimes I dream. Sometimes it's somebody else's dream. Sometimes it's somewhere in between." Koishi was upside down, now. "This dream is our dream."_

" _Ours, eh?"_ _Marisa could see stars and planets floating by. It was raining, but she had no idea how it could. "Oh. Yeah, fair enough._ "

 _Was every dream this odd, or was it only the thought of Koishi's waking mannerisms that made it resemble them? It was hard to tell._

 _Well, if Marisa could sit around in a dream and think, surely she could experiment. She just had to think about something… and…_

 _Marisa grabbed her Hakkero from thin air, pointed at a passing star, and inhaled. "Master…_

" _SPARK!"_

 _Everything started shaking, and the star… wait, what? Where'd it go? Whatever perspective this dream had once had, Marisa had entirely destroyed it._

 _Koishi was on her shoulders, and the dreamscape now seemed to simply replay the spark's colors._

" _Well, you shook that up! But now you're going to wake up."_

" _I am?"_

＊ ＊ ＊

Marisa jumped out of bed with her usual start, now grinning. That definitely wasn't supposed to be the way to wake up, or most likely how dreams worked.

Which was good. Breaking things was always worth doing, as long as they could be fixed to be broken again in new, experimental ways. Dreams, bizarre and ephemeral, weren't going to permanently shatter, in any likelihood.

She wondered for a moment if Koishi could invoke what had just happened, or if it was as subconscious as her bizarre, unprecedented movements. The latter seemed more likely, but that was fine – it gave room for experimentation to find out.

Putting aside thoughts of the odd dreamscape she had woken from, Marisa looked to the day ahead. It was going to be unusual – well, unusual for her – and… mostly talking. She wanted to introduce Koishi to her friends, to introduce her to life at large.

Mind-reading was not exactly standard fare for most people. Some, she imagined, wouldn't particularly care; Reimu and the amount she cared about almost any non-incident-related shenanigans came to mind. Conversely, Alice was naturally closed, didn't tend to meet too many people, and certainly didn't take well to anyone snooping around in her mind.

Anger was a common response to upset, which was not an unpredictable response from being caught off-guard. Anger surrounded hatred, and Koishi's scars surrounded hatred on all sides, ready to retreat and hurt again, to assume the world a place of hate.

Marisa didn't want that. Not on her watch, and preferably not ever. There would be times it would be far from that ideal… but then again, it's not as if humans never hated each other. For Marisa's own friends, for the first painful steps of recovery, Marisa hoped things could be away from the average, away from the worst of life's ups and downs.

That much wouldn't last, but it didn't need to.

Marisa decided to tackle the difficult case first, because putting things off out of a sort of procrastinating fear irritated her – Alice was also the closest.

She paused one moment, making sure that Koishi really _was_ underground for today – or at least for now – and nodded to herself when no subconscious reflex showed strong bias one way or the other.

Grabbing her broom, she headed out the door and took flight.

＊ ＊ ＊

"What, were you really _that_ worried?"

Marisa looked from one doll to another, to another. Notably, all of them were armed with tiny weapons, and all of them were in various flanking formations. Alice, for all she disdained it, certainly had a degree of showmanship herself.

"You broke in without asking." Alice's expression was its default for dealing with Marisa: unimpressed and mildly irritated. Looking at that, things couldn't be that bad – no legitimate concern broke through her sour guise.

"Hey, at least I didn't spark the door." Marisa shrugged, and Alice's eye twitched.

"Anyways, you owe me some explanations." She said, letting out a small sigh.

"I _owe_ you? How do you know I wasn't lying?" The plan, of course, was to immediately deny any allegations of deception the moment the conversation moved. It was a well practiced routine.

…Which Alice chose to bypass, this time. "I've got you surrounded in my own territory. Can we give the games a pass?"

Well, okay, she _was_ more concerned than usual, then. "Yeah, fine, fine…" Marisa raised her hands in mock defeat, and the dolls withdrew. Alice's ability to manipulate her dolls with barely any visible movement had always had a lot of potential for chaos, which was quite a shame, given her inclination towards, well, order.

"So, who was that you were with?" Alice asked, taking a seat, and seemingly paying no attention as a couple dolls served tea. It was always odd how wonderful a host she could pretend to be, given how few people she would ever have over, given the choice.

"You remember up on the mountain, just after the geyser incidents? After the birdbrain I still have to get some info on."

"I can't say I look forward to the day when you get a lead on nuclear energy. But yes, I do."

"Yeah, you would actually remember. You were just talking over the dolls, but that was the girl at the mountain I met. Koishi Komeiji," Marisa grinned. "She's just always that strange."

Alice gave a small smirk. "I remember. I've never seen you so thrown off in a spell card duel, before or since. Not that 'why is upside-down the right way now?' is a question that I wouldn't expect from you."

"If you were _there,_ you probably wouldn't recall. She's always that odd, and everybody's mind seems to try and just slip her away, under stuff that couldn't have happened. Like a dream you forget, I guess." Marisa shrugged, taking a seat a couple dolls had prepared. "She messes with all your reflexes. You think you're going forward and you're actually turning around in a direction that isn't possible, except it is because you're doing it. It's really cool!"

Alice sighed. "Yes, you would think so. But I can certainly remember what I last saw of her in person, so your hypothesis doesn't hold."

Marisa winced, but didn't dodge the subject. "Well, that's not the case anymore. She's a satori, which I'm sure you noticed – but the last time you met was the first time in a long while she read anybody's mind."

"I was under the impression that the satori had no more choice about what thoughts they see than what sounds we hear." Alice took a sip of her tea, keeping her expression neutral.

"They don't. She closed her third eye, which isn't supposed to be possible. She stopped reading minds, and… sort of started reading feelings and reflexes. Manipulating them, too! Although I don't think she was ever aware of enough to do it on purpose." Marisa paused, and then added, laughing, "she even got Patchy mixed up in her own library. She was so confused!"

Alice raised one eyebrow. "Do go on."

"Well, if you know a place so well that it's just reflex, that's what she can mess with. Of course Patchy knows the whole library inside out…"

"You took her to the mansion."

Marisa laughed again. "Yeah, although her third eye was closed, then."

"And why did that change?"

Marisa paused a moment to consider how pointed Alice's side of the conversation was. This was not, despite her general demeanor, of little concern. Whether it was her own curiosity, worry, or anything else, it was certainly outside of her typical profile.

Marisa took one breath, and then went on. "When a satori closes their third eye, they stop reading minds. That includes their own."

"Meaning?"

"She couldn't hold a thought, couldn't remember anything on purpose, couldn't actually decide much of anything. Messing with my reflex – everyone's, even – in new ways that trips up any experience you've ever had is really fun, but it's not a whole person. I can't make friends with a gimmick, even if it's a really cool one."

"If you could, I'm sure you'd be married to your experiments."

Marisa chuckled. Alice's barbs, were, in all honesty, familiar enough to be comforting; that they were at her expense was no issue. "Wouldn't surprise me! But anyways…" She paused. "Ehh, gotta get all serious about this one."

Alice nodded, and didn't comment.

"She closed her third eye on purpose, although nobody knew what'd happen. And I dunno why I inspired it, but she decided to open it. And… eh, lemme sort it out.

"So: she closed her third eye on purpose 'cause she's always all excited and happy and open like that, but satoris get a bad rep reading minds. And I mean _bad_ , like pretty much everyone hated her no matter what she did." Marisa shook her head. "Not pretty, at any rate."

"I assume this will explain where and why I found you?" Alice seemed cold, and Marisa was used to that – sympathy, for Alice, was difficult, and empathy exposed too much of herself.

It just made it easier to cut to the chase, as it was. "Yeah. Turns out, when she closed her third eye, she stopped remembering most things. It was like she'd been asleep. She opened it again, everything came rushing back."

"And you just randomly came flying out of your house, missing a hat and broomstick?" Alice raised one eyebrow. She was concerned, and she cared – Marisa was probably the only person this would be obvious to.

"She remembered me, somehow, and she shared her feelings. Haven't felt like that since… before I met you. Before Mima found me." Marisa shrugged. "But I knew that meant something was up with her, and I didn't want to waste a second."

"Is she alright?"

Marisa gave a sheepish grin. "That's… sort of the point. I want you to meet her! But she's still in pain, still recovering from the past, 'cause it's like it was last week, to her. She's got an open third eye, and that does mean mind-reading, but she's still excited to explore things and meet people and see what happens. And…" Marisa paused for a moment. She didn't like being this serious.

"So you don't want me to hate her." Alice rolled her eyes. "Not everyone will like her, no matter what she does."

"I know that! _She_ knows that. But – she's dense and she can read minds and she says everything she thinks, still – but that's all there is _not_ to like about her. And she's still afraid, and I don't want to ruin that."

Marisa caught herself before begging for anything, holding on to her feelings. She was more invested in this than she'd thought – or, perhaps, she'd just avoided thinking about it altogether.

"Look," she went on, "I know you're quiet and you don't like a lot of people and mind-reading puts you out in the open. If you can't handle it, that's fine, but I need to know. I don't want to lead her into the past again, not when she trusts me to walk into a different present. If you can't take it, I won't introduce you, and that's fine."

Alice paused, and it was clear she was weighing her options. She sighed, but it came out with a faint smile. "I can tell this is important to you. Serious _and_ important, how often does that ever happen to you?"

Marisa waited, and Alice laughed. "Sorry, I'm enjoying this. How often do you just wait for my response? No snark, no spark, nothing!"

Okay, now she was finding this _too_ funny. "Alright, alright, I get it, so what?"

"I'll be fine. If you want her to meet me, go ahead. Ask her not to start talking about my thoughts out loud, though. Oh," Alice smiled, and it was uncharacteristically devious. "This one's a favor."

"A favor, huh?"

"Yeah." Alice smirked, and Marisa sighed.

"Alright, fine, you win this one. It's a favor, you can call it in whenever you want, whatever!" Marisa stood up, raising her arms in defeat, and paused, breaking character for a moment. "Thanks, though. I didn't really know how much it meant, honestly."

"You're tired, too. I don't know what she means to you, but whatever she does, you care a lot about her." Alice stood up, and her dolls sorted away chairs and tea alike.

"And you pay a lot of attention to me, huh?" Marisa waited a moment, and went on when Alice failed to produce a reaction. "You pay a lot of attention to everything, heh."

"Tiny fractions of an inch move a puppet quite a distance. Of course I pay attention." Alice took one breath, and her warmer demeanor once again became her default, unimpressed expression. "Now, is there anything else?"

"Nah, that's all I got." Marisa stretched, looking around, and found her thoughts pre-empted.

"I'm doing you a favor, so don't take anything."

Well, that was no fun.

"Geez, fine."

＊ ＊ ＊

Alice watched as Marisa departed, almost disturbed by the simple fact that she didn't have to think about what Marisa had stolen this time.

This _was_ unprecedented, though. Marisa could be caring and strangely helpful, in her own way – if you ever needed somebody to follow you into insane, reckless journeys, personal or external, she was there. She listened, even if the surface of it told the story that she just wanted to be better at making things difficult for you. Of course, if you needed her to listen to you whine and not steal anything, you really needed someone else.

Without knowing Koishi, it was hard to know what she saw in Marisa, but it wasn't too hard to guess what had happened – Marisa had been there, all too insane to judge, and adventurous enough to be fun and welcoming to the apparently eager satori.

She'd left an impression in the subconscious, or something like that – or at least, that was Alice's best guess. Either way, it had ended with Koishi opening her third eye, and having everything she'd run from come rushing back to her, and Marisa had come running for that.

And now Koishi was attached to Marisa, and Marisa, supposedly just the leader, a degree of safety in a new and unfamiliar journey, was quite attached herself.

Alice paused, and then smiled. Two people attached to each other, constantly spending all day together, genuinely enjoying each other's unique company? Well, that sounded almost like a storybook, and there was no way _that_ wouldn't be good for at least a few exchanges.

＊ ＊ ＊

Marisa was, quite simply put, a lot less anxious about the next person.

Reimu Hakurei, by and large, really didn't care. She was simple, she solved incidents with a disdain for the fact that she _had to_ , judged everybody largely as an idiot without any real point or force behind the judgement, and seemed to be in a bad mood the majority of the time.

She made so little effort to hide what she was thinking that she had attracted the affection of one Suika Ibuki, in proper Oni fashion. That she would care if somebody could read minds seemed like an impossibility; that Koishi could run circles around intuition in reflex was the only thing really worth mentioning.

"What do you want _now?_ " Reimu said, looking grumpy as ever.

"I want you to meet someone." Said Marisa, grinning.

"Why would I want to meet somebody _you_ want me to? I like my things where they are, and I like my shrine in one piece."

"'cause I'm gonna bring her anyways!" Marisa leaned over, choosing obnoxiousness over anything else.

"Great. So why are you telling me now?"

With Reimu, questions were short and literal. This one was no exception, which meant…

Well, crap. Why did everything have to be so serious?

"Ehhh, because she's a bit… sensitive?"

"Then why not go find someone else?" Reimu shrugged.

Marisa stopped, sighing as she dropped her act.

Reimu raised one eyebrow. She was dense, if only because she was too lazy to pay much attention, but it was still clear to her this wasn't standard. "What?"

"It's kinda serious. Bit of a long story…"

Reimu frowned. "A bit of a long story I have to listen to?"

Marisa paused. "Well…"

Okay, this serious thing was _really_ annoying. Maybe if it were serious and unimportant… then it wouldn't be serious. Marisa's insane clouds of thought were failing to produce a solution that wasn't awkward and kind of boring. "Yeah, I guess it's kinda important to me."

"Well, that's a new one. Fine," Reimu said, stretching. "Come on in."

"Thanks," Marisa said, following her inside.

Inside, Reimu stopped, sitting down. Her expression was still very much her usual. "What's the deal? Why am I getting dragged into this?"

"Well, uh… alright. The person I want you to meet, her name's Koishi – sister of Satori Komeiji from the deserted hell, who owns the palace there," Marisa waved a hand. "Anyways, there's only two catches: she kinda randomly messes with your reflex, and she can read minds."

"…And?" Reimu was still unimpressed. "You're falling for her or something?"

Marisa was still herself enough to take _that_ in stride. "Geez, if you just want to shut me up, you could _say_ so. I'm being all serious, here."

Reimu shrugged, and Marisa paused. "Anyways, she's… well, long story short, everyone hated her for being a satori, she closed her third eye, and when she opened it, all of her past came back like it was yesterday. So she's still kinda sensitive about bad thoughts she sees, and I don't want to mess that up."

"Nobody's liked by everyone. If she spent years being hated, she knows that. _You_ definitely know that." Reimu's frown had given way to a slight focus. In spite of her demeanor and general lack of any manners, she was – perhaps even by choice – Marisa's friend.

"Yeah, I know. But she's following me and trying to rediscover this world, and there's not much to hate about her. I don't wanna mess it up, just yet. Hate still hurts a lot, for her."

"And you're showing her around, and spending all that time with her, and you don't want her to get hurt while you're doing that." Reimu gave a small smirk. "And I thought I was joking when I asked if you were falling for her."

"I'm trying to be serious, here," said Marisa, making a mock pout.

"Uh-huh. So, your point?"

"Don't be mean to her, if you can help it. You're not gonna care if she can read minds, but… yeah." Marisa sighed, and looked at Reimu, who was still displaying a small piece of her rare sense of humor.

"You really do care. Sheesh, fine."

"Thanks," said Marisa.

"Is that it?" said Reimu, her expression still slightly softer than it's usual frown – unlike Alice, she didn't much care to control it.

"Yeah, that's all. Sorry 'bout that, it keeps getting all serious on me," Marisa put one hand behind her head, giving a mock grin. "It's not like me!"

"It happens when you actually care—" Reimu stopped, and added without looking, "you're not getting anything from me if you touch that donation box."

"Geez, I ask people for _one_ favor, and everyone starts making demands! I'm not gonna get to steal _anything_ today."

"Maybe you're looking for the other shrine maiden, because it's a miracle anyone's giving you anything." Reimu let out an exasperated sigh, but it wasn't strained.

"Fine, fine," said Marisa, whining a little more than was necessary. "Anyways, I'll see ya later."

"Bye." Reimu gave a small wave, and Marisa made her exit.

＊ ＊ ＊

Marisa laid back in her bed – or whatever passed for one on any given night – and made a face at nothing. Being serious, well, seriously cramped her style. No good jokes to make, no back-and-forth mockery, and she had to open up her own vulnerabilities without any bait or counter in some battle of wits.

She was capable of being serious, on the rare occasion that the need arose, but even then, she did it in response to somebody else. She could be serious when somebody else needed it.

Never before had she really felt the need to seriously ask anybody for… well, anything, let alone particular favors, and it was frustrating. Everyone was curious at best, and suspicious at worst – Marisa Kirisame, asking for a favor? – and the obligation was on _her_ to explain her own desires, and reasons, and just about anything else.

But… well, if she weighed it, there was no way to her in which it wasn't worthwhile. Koishi, odd and entirely unique, made the future just that much more exciting – anything previously predictable wasn't, and that was very much a chaotic future that Marisa wanted nothing more than to dive headfirst into. If she had been worried that the odd, impulsive nature of Koishi had changed with the opening of her third eye, she found herself less and less worried with each passing day.

"Falling for her", huh? Marisa turned the thought Reimu had brought up so tactlessly over in her head a few times, and settled for putting it off a bit longer. There was still too much to do, too many plans to make to consider something that inconsequential and silly.

 _Was_ it inconsequential?

Marisa let out a pointed sigh. That, she decided, was a thought for another day.


	9. Chapter 9 - And Joy in Pain

Koishi was quick to wake, today. It was unusual – the mornings were still difficult for her. While dreams seemed to be their own world, the scars of the past all made themselves the clearest when she woke – her heart would race, and she felt like curling up and crying again, hiding from the rest of the world. When she wasn't entirely awake, her feelings warned her of the past, not of the present.

Marisa always did her best to spring out of bed, to wake herself up as quickly and entirely possible. Koishi had decided to follow this process, wondering if it was meant for this kind of thing.

It was… scary. The world was still imposing and unfamiliar, and Koishi's feelings wanted to warn her of its hatred.

But when everything was scary, how much was really that bad? Marisa had a lot of thoughts that worked against her feelings, trying to piece together what was actually out there, instead of what felt like it was there. Koishi wanted to learn from this, because the odd black-and-white magician seemed ready to bring all of her scars face-first into the future.

The future seemed kind. The past had not been.

Koishi landed on her feet, refusing the half sleep, the false comfort of hiding under covers. She had begun to remember pieces of lessons of the past, pieces more than simple hatred. Marisa, again, was an odd inspiration – she paid a bit of attention to everything, like there was something new to learn from the worst.

Koishi remembered a lot, even though it hurt to. The first step, here, was that the longer people avoided something, the harder it got to face. The people who had hated her the most had only become so extreme after time apart, time to worsen the problem in their own mind. Koishi had chosen to sleep in great part because she had avoided all discussion, because she had simply hid in that same bed for days.

She winced. The mantra of pain came again: _It's too much_.

It's too much, so it said as she opened her eye. It's too much, it screamed as she looked for a reason to avoid the day.

It wasn't too much. It was painful, it was terrifying, and it was a great unknown, but it was not yet too much - not as long as she could take another step.

In spite of herself, Koishi smiled. She looked down, focusing on each step she took, each step further away from her false shelter meaning little, but feeling like a lot.

Smiling genuinely, but also holding back tears, Koishi was reminded just how strange feelings were. If the mind was confusing, the subconscious was rarely better.

Both, she thought, could be beautiful in their own ways.

And finally, she took flight. Today was now, not later, and Koishi's feelings were to be felt, but not avoided.

"…Koishi?"

＊ ＊ ＊

Utsuho Reiuji was, if what other people said was true, a bit of a birdbrain.

That had generally made sense to her – she _was_ a bird, after all. Except further signs pointed to the meaning of "birdbrain" as something like "idiot", which seemed a little unfair.

Utsuho was not very attentive; she was smart enough to see what she often didn't notice, what Satori and Orin often had to point out. At the same time, though, just how many of the people calling her stupid would even know what a single number in hell's new furnace _meant_?

She didn't think she was stupid when it came to her focus. Outside of that… well, she trusted those around her to mean well.

Right now, the focus was Koishi Komeiji. Utsuho had put two and two together, and they didn't quite add up. She could remember Satori's sister, remember affection and past – and when she tried to check this with earlier memory, she remembered… not remembering.

So something had obviously changed. Utsuho, never quite sure what "subtlety" meant, went on ahead and asked.

"How come I remember you now?"

Koishi looked surprised. And then she smiled. It was a smile that was both sad and happy, and that was a little strange.

The satori pointed to her third eye. "That was closed before."

"So you couldn't read minds," Utsuho said, still following the topic as simply as she could. "But why would that make me not remember?"

And then Koishi was gone, and then she had been gone all along, and then she _hadn't_.

But Utsuho found this enlightening. There were a lot of things she didn't pay enough attention to, that simply slipped by her notice for that reason. Koishi, somehow, could slip outside of notice in a way that felt very natural. Utsuho, for the parts she couldn't remember, didn't notice her memory, didn't notice Koishi.

It wasn't clear _how_ this happened, but Utsuho wasn't too concerned about the how. As long as she could understand _what_ happened, she could work with it. Once again, she voiced her immediate, simple thought.

"So… I'm noticing you now. And the memories of you, right?"

"Yeah." Koishi smiled.

Utsuho had noticed that Satori had seemed… hurt, but very, very happy. Happy in a way the crow hadn't seen before in a long time. This made sense, somehow – it was like Koishi was back, after years and years gone, even if she'd been physically here all the time.

Satori, who was always kind and caring to her servants, would of course care very much about her little sister. This all clicked together.

Utsuho didn't bother with much further thought – she pulled Koishi into a hug, and Koishi hugged her back. Utsuho, herself, felt simple joy, but she could feel it radiating from Koishi as well, somehow. There was only one thing that seemed appropriate to say, now.

"Welcome back."

＊ ＊ ＊

Marisa realized, flying down through the streets of an obsolete hell, that she was genuinely excited.

She had always had a love of flying recklessly into the future, exploring each option in strange ways. Each day was a new day, and the world was vast and interesting, and it was that concept that filled her life.

The concept of being able to show somebody else the world in that way was new, and it was… almost overwhelming. To experience one's own joy was one thing, to be able to share it in such a way, to walk beside somebody on the same path – that was new, and it was beautiful, in its own way.

She shook her head, other lines of thought mocking these rose-colored lenses, but that was fine. Mockery was affection, in its own way, at least to Marisa. Given that others seemed to tolerate her, this was likely the case for them, as well.

Koishi was vulnerable, afraid, hurting… excited, and overjoyed. She was utterly genuine, and right now, the whole world was new to her. Terrifying and exciting, painful and amazing. Marisa wanted to show her each step, to see somebody else begin the never-ending journey that was her own life – that desire, she thought, could explain some people's unending kindness, where persistence in the face of an uncaring world might otherwise seem impossible.

Some joy was best shared. If Marisa felt anything lacking in this, it was that in her peculiarity, it was often hard to share her excitement, even through shared interest.

…If Satori wasn't kind, this would all be quite frustrating. Marisa Kirisame was not some naïve, star-struck saint. She was an annoying, trouble-making thief, a chaotic magician – a name you didn't want to hear involved in any delicate matter. This particular excitement would wreak havoc on her image, and she had some attachment to her persona.

 _Will I have to give that up to walk this road?_ asked another passing thought. It didn't matter, in the end. If there was any part of that persona that mattered, that truly defined her, it was that she was entirely herself, unafraid and going forward into the future. People changed, even the ones immature enough to enjoy walking around in a witch's outfit, and Marisa refused to be afraid of that. She had been, at once point, and it had almost torn her life apart.

But it hadn't, and now nothing else would. Marisa grinned – there was too much joy, too much excitement to bother worrying about what change might affect.

＊ ＊ ＊

"I dunno, you seem like a bad influence."

The cat – Rin – grinned at Marisa, and Marisa grinned right back. "That's right! Your daughter's not safe with me! I'm gonna teach her all sorts of wrong things, and there's nothing you can do about it!"

Rin laughed, and played along. "No daughter of mine is going out with a witch!"

"Why are you so worried? It's just a phase, geez." Marisa gave an overexaggerated shrug. "What kinda parents can't control their own kid, anyway?"

"Now that's a little closer to home than I'd have expected from you," said another voice. It was Satori, who was wearing a wry smile.

"That's – hey! That's mean, you're just using your third eye!" Marisa chuckled.

"I believe you were the one who said that my own weaknesses were 'open game'. And given your thought processes, skirmishes of wit are naturally to be equal." Satori's smile was… surprisingly evil. Marisa wouldn't, at first glance, have expected this sense of wit.

"Equal? You can read minds! How's that fair?"

"We both use all the means at our disposal, no? It's hardly my fault if you picked a battle of wits with a person who can see your hand." Orin laughed a little too hard, and Marisa shot her a glance.

"Alright, alright, fine, you win this round." Marisa raised her hands in mock surrender. "Two on one, I shoulda expected the home turf advantage. Anyways," she said, dropping her exaggerated act, "Koishi didn't go and leave without me or anything, did she?"

"She's on your shoulders," said Satori, stifling laughter with skill that Marisa had to admire. The cat, on the other hand, failed to do so, and was barely standing, now.

They were, of course, right. Koishi, in the way that only she could manage, had in fact made herself retroactively known on Marisa's shoulders, absent any shame or hesitation.

Marisa laughed, not missing a beat, and looked up to the girl on her shoulder. "You ready to head out, then?"

"Yep!" Marisa buckled as Koishi did an excited little jump, unaware of who was bearing the weight.

"Ow." Her grin didn't fade.

"Oops. Sorry!" Koishi, still in her position on Marisa's shoulders, waved to Satori and Rin. "Bye for now! I'll tell you about it when I get back, okay?" And then, she hopped again, flying with less weight this time. "Let's go!"

"Alright. See ya!" Marisa said, giving a wave while taking off – with altogether too much velocity to be safe.

＊ ＊ ＊

"So, are you excited?" Marisa said, skidding to a halt as she landed. The question was only rhetorical, because she could feel Koishi's excitement.

"Yeah! It's cool and it's scary and it's unknown," she said, and Marisa could feel all of those, as well. It was hard not to empathize with somebody who shared their feelings so.

Marisa wondered idly how that colored her own perception – Koishi, as far as she could tell, didn't share her feelings with anyone short of maybe Satori in this manner. Maybe she was less likeable, harder to understand without it.

Marisa doubted it, on the whole. If there was something she was good at, among other insane things, it was that she was always evaluating her own thoughts. She compared them with countless others, looked at what happened in the external world in comparison, and judged them. She could be shamelessly biased, but she was careful not to be blind.

It would be very, very hard, she thought, to be so headstrong and then to be utterly wrong. In absurdity, in her own bizarre sense of humor, sure, but she had seen recklessness meet personal mistakes before, and it seemed a challenge that would change a person.

She wasn't too fond of being forced to change by mistakes. Constant, strange progress was her upkeep, and as such, it was her familiar method of moving onward.

"I can tell you how others see me," Koishi said, all but oblivious to any manners. "I can see how you see me, sometimes."

There was no anxiety or worry in that tone. Marisa smiled; Koishi felt safe with her, and that was good.

"Yeah, I'm not gonna lie, I'm pretty fond of you," Marisa said. Her house was visible from where they landed, and she started walking from there. "Piece of advice, though: don't talk about other's thoughts if they don't do it first."

Koishi tilted her head, but didn't say anything.

Marisa took it as a cue, and chose to elaborate. "People can get uncomfortable about you reading their mind, yeah, but it's a lot worse if they think you'd tell other people about it, or say it out loud. If you read their mind, they think they're exposed to you, but if you talk about it in front of them, they think you're exposing them to everybody."

"But… everyone talks about other people sometimes." Koishi still seemed confused.

"Most people couldn't talk about what they were thinking. Just what they see on the outside." Marisa looked to Koishi, who seemed almost frustrated – she was very clearly _trying_ to understand. "You could tell everyone ever what they're _'really_ like', and that's way scarier than just one person."

"That's not what it's like, though." Koishi seemed a little clearer. "People think like that, but everyone thinks all sorts of things, and we see thoughts from everyone. It's not like we were human and then learned just to read that single mind. And even if we did, it's not like we wouldn't understand from our own mind, right? They're afraid of nothing…"

"A whole lot of people are afraid of being judged, y'know," said Marisa. "Just like you get scared when you feel people are uneasy, some people just worry everyone will feel like that towards them, even if they can't tell the way you do. Since you can see their mind, they think that you'll hate them since you know what's inside, and they're afraid that what's inside is terrible.

"And then, since they think you'll hate them, they start thinking of you as somebody that hates them, is how that works." Marisa looked at Koishi, now without any trace of humor. "They're so afraid they don't check anything, they just keep running away until all they can think of is that hate. A lotta people don't like me just 'cause I'm different. A human away from the village dressing like a witch and casting spells left and right? She just _has_ to look down on all those _normal_ humans, right?"

"You don't!" Koishi said, almost shouting. "You don't do any of that!"

"'Course not! But it's hard to see everything clearly. Even you – you could see their minds, and after a while, it was hard to see the fear and the other thoughts over the hate, wasn't it? 'cause you started thinking of the hate first."

Koishi stopped, considered this, and lowered her gaze.

Marisa sighed. "I'm not saying you did anything wrong. I just mean no matter _what_ you can see, it's easy to get stuck on one kind of thought. If you start dragging people's thoughts out into the open, it's easy for their feelings to take over – feelings of fear. They think you could only be doing it to hurt them – so maybe you hate them, and that's where it all starts.

"So… I don't mind if you talk about _my_ thoughts, really. I think a lot of things, and if anything catches your interest, feel free to stop me. But don't do that to other people, unless they're really comfortable. If you have to, ask first, okay? It'll seem weird to them, but it'll let you know that you don't mean any harm."

Koishi looked saddened – not in tears, but Marisa could see painful pieces of the past click into place. "People can do horrible things."

"Yeah, all sorts. Humans, Youkai – anyone can get stuck on one thing, really. You gotta work hard to keep yourself looking at everything, and if you're good about reading minds and all that, it makes it a little easier for another person to look at things how they are, instead of getting afraid." Marisa put a hand on Koishi's shoulder, still entirely serious. "It's harder for you than it is for somebody that seems more normal, yeah. It'll be harder for people to stay smart about somebody who can read their minds, just like it's harder for a lot of people to think of me as a human when I run around with all my magic."

"But we can do it, right?" said the satori. She looked uncertain, still.

Marisa gave her a grin. "I'm still alive and about, aren't I?"

"Yeah." Koishi smiled, and Marisa swept her up in a hug.

"You'll be alright. Time helps, and you're brave." Marisa felt Koishi's own feelings – sorrow, comfort, hope, acceptance – wash over her.

She held on until safety and acceptance were what colored the mood. "So! We're gonna go meet Alice, today."

Koishi paused a moment, and then gained understanding without word. Whatever came to Marisa's word with the name, it was enough for Koishi.

"She was… there when you found me the first time?"

"Yeah, she saw me go flying out to find you, and went snooping around to see why." Marisa grinned. "So if she gets annoyed that you can see any personal business, I'll make sure to remind her that she started it."

Koishi laughed. "You trust her."

"Yeah, she's a good friend. She doesn't really like people all that much, but she gets me, even if we're trying to shoot each other half the time."

"…You start that," Koishi said, and Marisa grinned.

"Nope! I'm a reasonable person, thank you very much."

Koishi laughed – deceit, given her third eye, was a matter of comedy.

"Anyways, Alice said she'd meet me here. I dropped by before I came down to get you, so I guess we just wait a bit. She's usually on time for anything she's actually willing to go out for."

"Is she nice?" Koishi asked, and Marisa took the random question for what it was.

"She doesn't look it, but she can be. She notices a lot of little things that happen, so if she's actually going to be your friend, she's pretty nice. Even if she always looks like you're irritating her."

"If she mostly prefers being alone, won't reading minds bug her even more? You're thinking she's not somebody who says much about what she's thinking."

"Yeah, maybe. I asked her, so she knows what the deal is," Marisa said. "I'm not gonna let her be mean to you."

Marisa felt some worry, but it was not overwhelming. Koishi had decided that this was alright.

"Anyways, I'd start telling you some funnier stories about her, but she'd probably show up—"

"Right when you started? I'm sure you'd just love that."

Marisa laughed out loud. "Heya, Alice."

＊ ＊ ＊

Koishi Komeiji was, in this context, hard to be nervous about.

Alice was not particularly keen on the prospect of somebody reading her mind – even as she thought about them – but the satori orbited Marisa as if she was a hatchling late to find her parent, and it was unfortunately adorable.

"So," Marisa said, smiling in a way that signaled trouble. "This is Alice."

Koishi floated into the air, waving. "Hi, Alice!" she said, altogether like a child.

Marisa wasn't wrong. Koishi was definitely a very, very hard person to hate–

And very sensitive. Koishi's expression faltered, almost finding terror as the word hate floated through Alice's own thoughts. The satori, for whatever ability to _read_ she had, was not good at hiding… well, anything.

"No, I don't hate you. I don't think I could," Alice said, as she arrived at the same conclusion in her thoughts. "Don't worry about it. You couldn't possibly be more obnoxious than Marisa, anyways."

Marisa gave Alice an over exaggerated pout, and Alice rolled her eyes. "Anyways, I'm not sure what else she's looking for – all she told me was that I was meeting you."

Koishi giggled at the exasperation with Marisa as it passed Alice's mind, and Alice carefully ignored her own disturbances. It was… disconcerting to see somebody follow your own thoughts, but it was also quite clearly harmless.

The satori took a while to think, and then spoke, quietly and uncertainly. "Can… I talk about your thoughts?" she asked.

Alice, in spite of herself, smiled. "Don't say what they are, but yes, we can have a conversation without Marisa stuck in the middle of it."

"Hey!"

"Like so." Alice raised one hand, and Koishi then spoke again, still looking cautious.

"Marisa said you notice a lot of little things—"

"She did, did she?" Alice raised one eyebrow. _Of course she did_.

Koishi giggled, but went on. "But it's the body, really. Like…" Koishi waved her hands, beginning to grow more lively. "If I fidget a little, if I put my fingers together while I talk, you see that. It's not really the voice, but if I move a little you see it."

Alice smiled, ignoring the strange feeling of her own processes as a topic, and moved her hands, ever so slightly.

In turn, a doll moved in a blur, seemingly from nowhere, and then stopped, in front of Koishi. The movements of Alice's hand were almost invisible as she made it wave, and then dart back and forth.

Koishi seemed spellbound. "They're not… they don't think! But…"

"She wishes they could," said Marisa, and Koishi elbowed her.

Alice was so surprised that she broke out laughing when Marisa flinched – it had caught the witch entirely off-guard, for once.

"What was _that_ for?"

"She was thinking of it!" said Koishi, hopping up and down.

Alice managed to stop her own laughter. "You know, maybe I could get used to this."

"Yeah, yeah," said Marisa, clearly behind in her imaginary score now.

"Anyways," said Alice, bringing the doll to life again. "It's not alive, no."

"But it looks like it!" said Koishi, following its movement with a wonder that, in all truth, made Alice happy, too.

"Yes, but look at my hand," said Alice. She continued to let the doll play in its own, artificial motions.

"It barely moves at all—" Koishi paused for one moment, and then inhaled sharply. Alice could almost _hear_ the click in the girl's mind.

"So you see what you do! That's awesome!"

Marisa was, in spite of herself, smiling in a way that Alice rarely saw much of. Whatever genuine, childlike joy had overtaken the satori, Marisa seemed to share it.

Their friendship being the back-and-forth battle of wits that it was, Alice didn't feel the need to let this go.

"You seem happy," she said, and then smiled, and added, "both of you."

Koishi was still practically glowing. Marisa missed a beat – barely, but she did – before responding with a grin.

"What, are you jealous?" she said, giving Alice a glance that spoke of grand larceny.

"Of being owed a favor?"

Koishi started laughing, and Marisa looked between her and Alice, making an expression of mock upset. "Jeez, I can't catch a break, can I?"

"If anyone deserves to never get one, it's you."

"Aw, c'mon, I'm not _that_ mean."

"Really? Because I can certainly think of more than a few things…"

"She can!" said Koishi, still laughing.

Alice stopped for a moment, and noticed Koishi was imitating the practiced movements of her puppetry. It didn't seem to be conscious, but… it was _perfect_ , with no effort.

No… it was her _exact_ movements, what she had practiced, what she could do without thinking.

Alice thought back to her first, initial encounter with Koishi, and remembered the bizarre mismatch of reflex and perception that had come about, along with the chaos that was Marisa's first meeting, up on Youkai Mountain.

Koishi had the power to manipulate the subconscious. If Alice were to guess, she hadn't learned anything about the movements of puppetry from watching her, but instead was mimicking her reflex.

In its own way, it was both unsettling and fascinating. Given Koishi (and Marisa, in this case), it was much more of the latter than the former.

But Koishi cut her thoughts off, bouncing strangely through the air in excitement. "Can you do it again?" she asked, looking at the puppet that was now idle.

Alice hesitated for a moment, and decided, against her usual judgment, to cut loose.

All of the puppets that she had came, seemingly from nowhere, and danced to life, and Alice focused, blocking out the rest of the world as the dolls' interactions nested within one another. Dolls squabbled like children, others shaking hands, some being bumped off course by another in a charge, only to disrupt another – all in so many playful, deliberate ways.

It was its own little setting, and Alice, for those moments, lived it. She gave tiny little quirks to each doll, let each of their individual 'personalities' and lives play out, in all their little complexities.

And then, as suddenly as the life of the puppets had begun, it stopped, each puppet returning to her, extra motion and strange, life-like movements shed in favor of practicality.

Koishi, still, was jumping from foot to foot, excited and elated. She had – clearly – never seen anything like this, and the novelty, the discovery seemed altogether overwhelming.

Marisa, against Alice's expectations, looked somewhat surprised, and spoke first while Koishi seemed to still be taking everything in.

"I've never seen you give a show like _that_ before."

Alice paused, and noted that this was, surprisingly, true. Marisa, chaotic and 'cool', in her own irritating way, had never quite given the impression of somebody who would appreciate it.

"I don't, often," said Alice, smiling.

"That was amazing! How—how—" Koishi cut herself off, pointing to each of the dolls, showing little motions with her hands that imitated what one doll or another had been doing, and hopping from place to place in the air. "How can you handle all of them? It's like they're all alive, bumping into each other and talking and, and—" Koishi continued tracing various paths, seeming almost overwhelmed with her excitement.

"I've had a long time to practice," Alice said. It was strange, she thought, that the first person who she felt wouldn't question the intricacy of her show, wouldn't try to figure out what it meant about the puppeteer rather than the actual show, was a satori, a mind-reader.

But Koishi was excited about what had happened, about all the little life in the novelty of the show.

Given Marisa's tendency to excitedly blaze – recklessly – headfirst into the new and unknown, it was quickly becoming obvious why the two would get along so well. Koishi was overjoyed at every new, interesting, exciting thing that the world had to offer, and she shared that joy – and Marisa spent most of her free time finding new and interesting things to set off.

Alice smiled, and one doll came to life again, tracing the single path that Koishi was following in her excitement. "Here," she said, "I can show you each one."

Koishi's face lit up – and given that she was practically glowing, Alice wasn't entirely sure how this was possible. Still, it was something even she could appreciate, and she held her smile as she extended a hand, showing Koishi each little motion.

＊ ＊ ＊

Marisa was, in all honesty, surprised at a lot of the things had happened today.

For one, she and Alice were talking right now – for all the explanation that Marisa had found difficult, Alice had simply asked for comfort's sake if Koishi could give them a moment, and when it came to simple, personal requests, the satori didn't seem to see much reason _not_ to oblige.

But more importantly, she hadn't seen Alice that engaged with just about anyone in a long, long time.

"She's quite an audience, isn't she?" said Alice, still smiling in a way that was rather uncharacteristic of her.

Marisa laughed, and couldn't help but share the smile. "She really wants to explore the world – and everything about it. It's genuine, it's really obvious, and yeah, of course I love that."

"She's still sensitive." Alice said.

"Yeah," Marisa shook her head. "The past feels like it was, what, two weeks ago? To her, I mean. So when people get uncomfortable, she does too, because in her past, it didn't take long to go from that to hating her."

"I can certainly see it." Alice smiled. "Either way, if you want to bring her along to meet me again, you're free to."

Marisa held onto her surprise. "Free to visit? You? Well, now I _know_ she's something special."

"You'd certainly think so," replied Alice, now smirking.

"What's that mean?" Marisa had a bad feeling about this.

"Well, when you're falling in love with somebody—"

Marisa threw up her arms in mock frustration; one of the best ways to lie, she had learned, was to use a real emotion. "Why is everyone on about that? Do you all have no originality? Come on, 'sitting in a tree' and all, you're literally immortal!"

Alice chuckled. "Well, the truth just has a certain ring to it."

Marisa pouted, and there was some silence as the tone of mockery settled down.

"So," Marisa said, "how come you never showed me any of that?"

"I don't think I've really shown anybody, honestly." Alice shrugged. "I don't expect people to share all my interests."

"And they'd start wondering what the show says about you, right?" Marisa had known Alice a long time, and she knew how much she hated to be exposed. That Koishi had altogether overwhelmed that caution was remarkable in and of itself.

"I could have shown you, but puppetry never seemed to be your thing."

"Eh," Marisa shrugged, and against her usual judgment chose to be honest. "Much as I make fun of people for anything they're embarrassed about, I don't need to know things people don't want to tell me. It was a really cool show, though," she added.

"Well, thanks." Alice looked at Marisa, and added, "all jokes aside, she really is hard not to appreciate. Don't go kicking down my front door or anything, but I'd be happy to see her again."

Marisa smiled, and it expressed relief and joy at the same time. "Thanks."

"I didn't get along with her for your sake, by the end."

"Yeah, I know, but you still did, and this is more important to me than I'd like to admit."

Alice chuckled again. "I'm telling you now, you're not going to hear the end of it. Because it's true."

Marisa rolled her eyes. "Whatever," she said, taking her embarrassment in stride as she did just about everything else. "Anyways, I should get going. I don't want to keep her waiting for too long. Or lose her somehow…"

"Alright," said Alice. "I'm still holding that debt."

"What's a favor even mean to you?"

"Wouldn't you like to know."

"How can I owe you something I don't even know?" Marisa shot a joking glare at Alice.

Alice smirked. "You're the one who finds these things out. Why don't you go experiment with it?"

"You know what? I think I will." Marisa grinned, and Alice chuckled. "Anyway, I'll probably see you soon enough."

"Without stealing anything."

" _That_ ," Marisa said, now wearing her characteristic, troublesome grin in full, "is good for a limited time only."

"Oh, I'm sure."

＊ ＊ ＊

"You know, you aren't obligated to keep me in on the loop, as much as I appreciate it," said Satori.

Koishi had decided, without much show, to sleep. Excitement and fatigue seemed to go hand in hand, and from what Marisa knew of fear, this wasn't particularly surprising – if Koishi was energized by her excitement, holding back fear was still tiring.

"Even if I didn't want to, she worries about you. About you worrying about her." Marisa held up one hand, and added, "and if that makes you guilty enough, she can worry about you worrying about her worrying about you."

Satori offered a small smile. "Thank you, either way."

"Don't worry about it, I'll repay myself later," Marisa said, grinning.

"I can see what you're planning to steal," Satori replied, a smirk of her own now in place.

"It's the improvisation that makes it interesting! Anyways," Marisa said. "I'm gonna head back up, then."

"I wouldn't have taken you for a worrying type," Satori said. In wit, without restraint or unease, she had no problem with turnings others' thoughts into cards to be played.

"If I were used to it, maybe it wouldn't be so hard. Then again," Marisa added, her thoughts a little more serious, "maybe not."

"Well, I've survived it, for what it's worth. At any rate," Satori said, waving a hand. "Don't let me keep you. Koishi can be a handful, when she really is comfortable… although I suppose that's what you would like most about her."

"Guilty as charged," said Marisa, grinning. "Anyways, I'll see you tomorrow, then."

"Rest well."

＊ ＊ ＊

Marisa, at home, found herself at rest, for now.

Worry was tiring, especially when it was new, and today had done nothing but alleviate her worries.

'Happy' and 'tired' were, in Marisa's opinion, both decent notes to sleep on.

Neither, on the other hand, did anything to slow down the constant, twisting train of thought. Marisa, used to this, waited for sleep to set in as the thoughts ran in their own circles.

Today was, all things considered, a pretty good day.


	10. Chapter 10 - No Two Mirrors

" _We can't hide her here!"_

" _We don't have time, they're coming…"_

" _I'm sorry!"_

 _Marisa oriented herself pointedly and quickly. Some dreams were irritating and obvious, and this was one of them._

 _One hand took her from behind by the shoulder, and she felt indifference, as she'd trained herself to._

 _The people her were her parents, and whoever was coming, they wanted her – Marisa Kirisame, the child, dead._

 _The dream, at first, ended in murder and sudden waking from shock. Her parents couldn't protect her, couldn't hide her, and then they killed her. A mercy, in theory._

 _But she'd seen that already. She was long done caring about painfully obvious symbolism in a dream that belonged to her._

" _Nope," she said, almost casually removing her phantom father's hand from her shoulder, heading straight for the door. The fear, the chaos – it was forced to the background._

 _She kicked down the door, with more force than a dream would need, and walked out into the waiting crowd. "I'm trying," she said, both cold and angry, "to sleep. So you can all go right to hell."_

 _More blurring gave way to nothing, but Marisa's awareness didn't fade, which was less usual. Once a dream went, so did her perspective – if she could force a dream aside, then often, she could sleep without an unnecessary break in the middle of the night messing everything up._

 _Another hand took her shoulder, but it felt altogether different. It was small, without force, and… unfamiliar, in a dream._

 _Marisa turned around, and found Koishi staring deeply into nothing._

" _Is it really you?" Marisa asked casually. "Or is it something subconscious?"_

" _It's me. You can ask me when we wake up," said Koishi, still looking lost in thought. "Were those your parents?"_

" _In the house? Sort of. That never actually happened."_

" _But were things like that?" said Koishi, thoughtfulness giving way to worry._

" _Sort of. It's dreams making something that feels the same, in some way." Marisa shrugged, and turned to a different version of her house. "I don't really wanna talk about it."_

" _Why not?" said Koishi._

 _That was a hard question to answer without facing things Marisa didn't want to. That realization, on the other hand, sat poorly. Marisa Kirisame didn't run from things._

 _But Marisa Kirisame didn't dwell, either._

" _It's happened already. It's not the present, it's not the future, and it's not who I am."_

" _But you can still feel it." Koishi took a seat on nothing, and began kicking at the air with one leg._

" _If you really, really gotta know, we can talk later. I know you can't read it all, but…" Marisa shook her head. "Eh, give me a bit to sort it out."_

" _It's a bit like me," Koishi said. She looked almost mournful._

" _And a bit not. That's people," Marisa said._

＊ ＊ ＊

Marisa found herself a little unsettled when she woke up. With Koishi around, the border between dream and reality seemed just a little vague.

Then again, this was Gensokyo; given Yukari, that particular border might itself be on a boundary. It was all ethereal, and pointless to consider at large – what happened, happened, and thatwas what you worked with.

Rolling out of bed, Marisa looked around, checking her own perceptive reflexes. Was Koishi already around?

Yes, she was.

Wait, what? If she was gone, there was no response, and when she was there, the answer was a definitive no.

"I'm here!" Koishi said, and Marisa took a couple tries to look in the right direction.

"So… you _want_ me to see you now?"

"Maybe. I dunno!" Koishi floated into the air, drifting like a very, very strange leaf in the wind.

Either way, Marisa found this amusing, in its own way. She'd gotten so used to trusting the opposite of her reflex for Koishi that not doing so played all sorts of games with that same reflex. Somewhere in there, the meaning of reflex had gotten just a little cloudy.

"So where do we go today?" Koishi said, looking around Marisa's house in a nonsensical order that made sense only for finding the witch's scattered notes. It was interesting to watch, given Marisa's interesting choice of reflexes.

"We're just gonna visit the shrine and bug Reimu."

"What's she like?" Koishi tilted her head.

"Grumpy," said Marisa, grinning. "Always grumpy, kinda lazy, but she's like that to everyone, so you don't have to worry. Besides, everyone messes with her sometimes."

"How come?"

"I dunno, it's just really funny, for some reason." Marisa shrugged, grabbing her broom. "It's not early enough for her to still be asleep, so we can't bug her that way, but we'll find something."

Koishi giggled; Marisa's humor was probably quite visible, to her.

"Alright, you ready?"

"Yep!" Koishi said, from Marisa's shoulders. If she ever stopped moving like that, it was going to get confusing.

"Alright," said Marisa, heading outside. Balancing Koishi, somehow, always felt entirely natural. "In that case, ready for liftoff in three… two… ONEISOVERRATED GO!"

＊ ＊ ＊

Reimu Hakurei heard a loud crash outside the shrine, followed by a suspicious amount of laughter. She was awake of her own accord, but it was still too early for this.

 _Much_ too early.

Already anticipating a severe headache, she made her way to the front of the shrine, sliding the front door open.

"What do you want? _"_ she said, more accusingly than curiously.

Marisa gave her trademark, obnoxious grin, and waved. "Heya! This is Koishi. She was on the mountain after the geyser incident, but everyone who saw her then forgot about her, so you probably don't remember."

"So this is the one, then?"

The satori trailing behind Marisa took one look at Reimu… and then seemed to relax. "Yeah, the one Marisa was telling you about!" She paused, and then added, "I'm actually in front of you."

Reimu took a moment to match her reflex and the reality of the situation, and then let out an irritated sigh. As if Marisa's presence wasn't enough, literally tripping over basic reflex was apparently going to be a thing.

"I thought you said she's sensitive," Reimu said, shooting Marisa a dirty look.

"I guess you're just hard not to be comfortable around!" said Marisa, that annoying grin just plastered to her face.

She wasn't wrong. For whatever reason, despite sometimes making a point out of being just short of hostile, just about everyone in Gensokyo seemed to be entirely at home at the shrine. _Her_ shrine.

"Well… ugh, come in, I guess." Reimu took one step towards her door, and then grabbed Marisa by the collar. " _The door is there, right?"_

"Yes! It is! I'm not even the one doing that!" said Marisa, raising her hands. The grin was _still there_ , and Reimu noted with distaste that no amount of force would erase it.

Marisa had an amazing talent for only getting _more_ annoying when you tried to shut her up. With words, this wasn't too surprising, but more people started being less funny after you'd applied a little more force.

With another pointed sigh, Reimu slid open the door to the shrine. "Steal anything and this is the last favor you ever get," she said.

"Do you owe _everyone_ favors?" Asked Koishi, who was now floating in the wrong direction. Reimu stopped for a moment to consider what "wrong" meant, and then discarded the thought altogether. Dealing with Marisa was annoying enough without a bunch of questions about a frazzled intuition.

"Nope! Just Alice and Reimu, so far."

"And why them?"

Reimu stopped, and found her sense of humor waking up as Marisa actually missed a beat. _That_ was rare – the witch was at home with all manner of stupid battles of wit and mockery.

It made sense, really. Marisa was, while she bothered everyone, mostly alone outside of her chaos. Koishi, whoever she was, and whatever it was that had made it happen, was really important to her, and that was unprecedented. Entirely new ground was harder to play around with, to take and return mockery.

The shrine maiden found herself smirking. She wasn't above the thought of petty revenge.

"Because she wanted us to meet you," said Reimu, stifling her laughter as she watched Marisa try to catch up.

"Why's that a favor?" asked Koishi, tilting her head. Unlike Marisa, the satori seemed mostly innocent, despite the odd tricks she played with perception.

"Well, I wouldn't want my friends to start off on the wrong foot—"

"Because she worries that much about you." Reimu's smile was very, very pointed now. This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

Marisa raised her hands in mock, slightly irritated surrender. "Why does everyone keep doing this to me?"

Reimu shrugged. "I think it's cute, really."

Okay, now she was being a little mean. She might have felt bad, if it wasn't Marisa Kirisame on the receiving end.

Koishi looked at Marisa, and then at Reimu, and laughed. "You're enjoying this," she said, leaning one direction and floating the opposite way.

"Marisa doesn't usually leave herself that open," Reimu said. "And even if she does, it's not like she has any shame most of the time."

"I'm right here," said Marisa, her eyes narrowing.

"Well, you sure aren't saying much, then."

"You could wait until I'm gone to talk about me behind my back!"

Reimu chuckled. "Too much work. It's funnier when you're right here, anyways, why do you care?"

Koishi looked over to Marisa, who seemed a little cornered – claiming not to care would seem like a bad lie, rather than a deliberately absurd one. It was remarkable how unfortunately this had all come together, given that Reimu had had no hand in setting it up.

Stopping to think for a moment, the shrine maiden settled on an absolute lack of mercy.

"Well," she said, cutting off any reply Marisa might have, "I guess even the best get flustered when they're in love."

Marisa raised her arms, this time in very real frustration. "Alright! Fine! You win! What do you want?"

"I don't know, I kind of like how things are going right now," said Reimu, and Koishi started to giggle uncontrollably. "I mean, you roll with just about everything, but not this? Are you in denial, too?"

"She just hasn't thought about it," said Koishi, stopping her laughter for a moment. "And she thinks about everything, so that's funny…"

"And you too! You always side with them, too!" Marisa, not entirely out of her element, finally made a show of mock outrage.

"Well, the good new is, I like her already," said Reimu.

After a moment of silence, Koishi spoke first. "I think sis – I think any satori would probably like you," she said.

Some people weren't hard to read – this didn't matter, because Reimu didn't care enough to read them anyway. Koishi, it seemed, was almost impossible _not_ to read, her expressions were so sudden and earnest.

"A lot of people like me, and they're all annoying," she replied, shrugging. "What _is_ it about me?"

"You just say what you think, and you don't care if people know what you think. I could start saying what I see with my third eye out loud, and that doesn't even make you afraid. It's… nice." Koishi's expression was somewhere between surprise and relief. If Reimu was to bother paying attention – and Marisa cared enough that it seemed worthwhile – the satori really _was_ sensitive.

"It'd get old if you did it enough." Reimu did a small stretch. Marisa really _was_ a little blinded with worry, because no amount of grumpy demeanor or lack of care was going to upset the girl – if anything, it was the judgment, which she had decided was mostly a waste of effort.

"Well," Reimu said, raising her voice a little, "I'm in a good mood now; I'll make some tea."

"If it makes everyone that happy, maybe you should slip up more!" Koishi said, looking over to Marisa.

Marisa laughed – Reimu found it a little troubling, if only because it meant somebody innocent seemed to be learning wit from Marisa Kirisame – and elbowed Koishi. "You're supposed to be on _my_ side!"

"I thought you liked how unpredictable I was," the satori said, relaxing on thin air.

"Exactly! You've stabbed me in the back both times!" Marisa narrowed her eyes. "How am I supposed to help you if I've got to be ready to get you back?"

"Two times isn't enough to say something isn't random," Koishi replied, and then added, "you're thinking that, too. I've got you and you know it!"

"Alright," said Reimu, "don't be too mean to her."

Both of them looked at her like she was insane, which, given the two of them, was altogether unfair.

"I've known Marisa for a long time," she replied. "Times like this are when she thinks explosions are appropriate."

＊ ＊ ＊

Marisa was a little bit torn on how to feel. On one hand, Koishi and Reimu seemed to get along as well as she could hope – in fact, Reimu wasn't even being as grouchy as she was by default.

This was, on the other hand, because Marisa had been humiliated on a scale that was largely outside anybody's reach. Was it really _that_ obvious?

Reimu Hakurei, who couldn't be bothered to pay attention to most people's expressions, was using it against her. With Alice, there had been some grounds for denial – she was far more perceptive of various, small, personal tics that many people wouldn't notice. If Reimu had noticed something – and brought it out into the open – it was probably less difficult to figure out than two and two.

And of course, with the _unparalleled_ levels of tact that the shrine maiden employed, she had brought it up with Koishi right there. Alice tended to be more polite in her jabs.

Either way, all of this pointed towards thinking about something Marisa wasn't quite ready to, yet. Maybe tonight – definitely before introducing Koishi to anyone else, because it was already painful to imagine what might happen if rumors spread among friends. Alice was quiet, Reimu likely didn't care enough to tell anyone else.

But say Koishi went with Marisa to 'visit' the mansion and 'borrow' a book or two, and Remilia caught on. That would be far, far too much.

Marisa snapped to attention as Reimu waved a hand past her face. "Whaddya want now?" she said, still trying to keep her demeanor in line with her more insane image.

"Well, there's tea."

"And you're thinking a lot about other things," said Koishi, who was sipping the cup from the far side without any spill.

Marisa giggled, watching Reimu's face as she noticed Koishi defy conventional reality. There was certainly a humor to watching the consistent pattern of notice and deliberate discard – trying to amend impossible sights was too much effort for Reimu.

Marisa took a sip, shaking off thoughts outside. Right now, there was a kind simplicity in how comfortable Koishi had made herself – it seemed her movements became slow and deliberate when she was uncomfortable; perhaps she was afraid to disturb others.

Here, setting sights on Reimu's mind told little more than listening to her did – if anybody couldn't care less who knew what they thought, it was Reimu Hakurei.

Marisa recalled what Satori had said about the unease of the Oni – it was no wonder, then, that the first to appear above ground was so drawn to Reimu. If she didn't even care about the contents of her mind or memory, she was perhaps even a step more honest than most Oni, who might bear some drunken embellishment or memory altered by repetition of old tales.

Reimu hardly seemed to care that Koishi occasionally had perception and intuition alike misfiring – it took a second to correct, and by and large changed nothing.

And now Koishi was firing off small questions about Reimu's thoughts, and Reimu was replying with short, affirmative answers. The Hakurei shrine maiden, despite her importance, was not a very complicated person.

"Marisa just thinks about a lot of stuff all the time," said Koishi. "It's really interesting how different people are, on their own."

"If she thought about one thing at a time more, she probably wouldn't blow as many things up," said Reimu, shaking her head. "But she's crazy, so it makes sense. Maybe," she added, giving a mock excitement to her tone, "you could tell me what makes people think about leaving donations!"

Koishi laughed. "You're hopeless," she said, and given Koishi, it was just a literal statement.

"Well, I'm never going to get a troublemaker like _her_ ," Reimu pointed at Marisa, who made her best offended expression. "To give me anything in return for all the damage she's caused, but maybe when new people drop by. Do I need to threaten them more? I can do that."

Reimu's threats were, by and large, not very effective, Marisa thought. The problem was that really intimidating somebody took too long, so they had a tendency to end with somebody sealed to the ground before any fear or worry could take hold.

Koishi laughed. "I dunno! I can't see people's thoughts if I don't see them myself."

"Maybe you can _not_ bring Marisa next time?"

"Hey!"

"Well… she actually knows how to find me," said Koishi. "She just looks the last place that feels right."

"Anyone can do that," said Marisa, "if they know how. Maybe you just need to mix it up, and be where I think you'll be the first time. Or maybe I'll just drop by the shrine for no reason…"

"Well, _one_ of the two of you is welcome back," said Reimu. "The other one is just going to trepass wherever she wants, so that's too bad for everyone else."

"It's not trespassing, it's exploring!" Marisa said.

"You've already been here."

"Re-exploring! Memory's unreliable sometimes," Marisa grinned, and Reimu sighed.

" _Anyways…_ " Reimu looked at Marisa. "You should probably get going, before you get bored and start ruining everything."

"I don't ruin _everything_ ," said Marisa, crossing her arms. "Sometimes I miss. I'm not perfect!"

Koishi laughed, and Reimu brought one hand to her forehead in mock frustration.

"Koishi can drop by again if she likes," said Reimu, "and it's too much effort to stop you from tagging along."

Reimu's next sigh was an act, and the smirk behind it was real. "I guess it's hard to separate somebody in love, anyways…"

"I thought we were past that one!"

"Not for a _long_ time yet."

＊ ＊ ＊

Marisa found herself a little less deliberate than she often felt, tonight.

Laying back in her bed with a sigh, she started thinking about the newest point of mocking contention. What was "in love" supposed to mean, anyway? She was interested in Koishi – the strange satori had a genuine excitement for the new and strange that was altogether unique, and still managed to introduce new and bizarre factors herself. In terms of amusement, and what Marisa always loved to bring crashing down upon the world, of course she was _interested_.

But she cared, too. Common interests and fascinating individuality aside, Marisa had come running when she felt Koishi. Marisa had been, without even thinking about it, by the girl's side for the new and painful developments, the slow escape from the past. And by now, it was far too late to pretend she wasn't deeply invested in it – she worried about what would still hurt Koishi, what would turn her away from the prospect of a strange, new, exciting world.

Some of that could be chalked to petty self-interest. If Koishi turned away, or closed her eye again, Marisa lost the most interesting partner in crime she would have had. But… mere interest and novelty weren't the matter. What would it matter if Koishi had opened her third eye, then?

No, the satori made the future more interesting, more exciting, and that potential future was entwined with the thoughts of her as a person. This was somebody Marisa wanted to stay beside, to see the future with, to show all the weird pieces of the world that she'd so carefully found out herself, and then to be shown new, strange, wonders in turn.

That didn't sound unlike things more romantic than Marisa, until now, would care to admit. It was about as hard as putting two and two together – Reimu of all people saw it for what it was, so denying it or ignoring it were both implausible strategies at this point.

Honestly, this was just embarrassing. Marisa had never had any issues bringing up matters of romance and flirtation on even ground – it certainly wasn't a forbidden ground in the back-and-forth mockery she made out of most interactions. Whether it was entirely in jest or partly serious was inconsequential, in that case.

Now? There was no mocking exploration. Just confusion and hesitation over the fact that Marisa cared a great amount about Koishi, free of any power or back-and-forth value beyond, well, who she was as a person. There was no mockery, no joking exploration – she wanted to take Koishi along into the strange, exciting future, and she'd long since chosen to do so over any matter of style or impression.

That earnest interest was a vulnerability, as it stood. Marisa didn't like that, because something about you that was a vulnerability was something you were having issues confronting – in matters of romance, what point was there hiding it? What fear was exposed such that mockery _mattered_? Was she afraid of hurting Koishi? Marisa didn't know her limits, and she didn't know the extent of her fear. She could feel it, but it was hard to assess it, outside of the reasoned metrics of her own mind – but that wasn't it, was it?

No, it wasn't. Koishi was even joining in! And that meant that this fear was entirely on her. Something about what she didn't want to was inconvenient, or worse (and more likely), scary.

And that would probably be the turning point. Fear was not an acceptable way, to Marisa, to live one's life. Not while being herself, and not while dragging anyone else into the future in her reckless, brazen fashion.

So… what was there to fear? Like anybody else's exaggerated fear of the romantic, the fear was of change and the future.

So what would change?

…well, alright, that was a good question. Marisa didn't know what Koishi would think, or if she even had much concept of the different kinds of connections people could share. For all the satori saw, she rarely made anything more of it than what was, well, there. If Koishi knew – and given the train of thought now, she'd know the next time they met – what would she even make of it?

Well, that was something that would need testing.

Marisa sighed. The thought of testing, in this context, made her stomach sink – which was another thought to look at.

What was there to be afraid of, then? Well, romance was often messy, full of feelings that had been previously unexplored, and… there it was. The thought of a falling out with Koishi – delicate and still recovering from harm that was barely in the past – was terrifying. The other unknown factors – Koishi's approach, what sharing feelings and minds might change, what others would think – okay, that one _really_ didn't matter – weren't scary.

But… that could happen anyway. Maybe it would need to – people changed, Marisa knew. Times changed, things happened – Koishi now would not be Koishi years in the future, and that was part of what made that future so exciting. If she meant to follow into the future with Marisa, then she would eventually learn to bear her scars, to accept the pain of the world with the joy.

In which case, treating her as so utterly delicate would be nothing but a well-meaning cage. Marisa had seen enough of those for a lifetime. The only remaining fear is that it might all go too fast, become too hard to adapt to.

And, finally, Marisa smiled. 'Too fast' was a roughly accurate summary of, well, living her life. If Koishi wanted to follow her, to tag along, and to change up that future herself, she'd learn, too.

"You're brave," said Koishi. Marisa wasn't particularly surprised to hear her.

"If you do something a lot, you get used to doing it. I don't wanna be afraid," she replied.

"Nobody wants to be afraid," Koishi said, taking a seat at the edge of Marisa's odd arrangement of a bed. "But they'll turn it into other things instead of facing it."

"A lot of bad stuff comes from that." Marisa looked out her window, idly counting stars in the sky. "If you go looking, you could probably find it in my memories, too."

"Probably?"

"Definitely, really."

"Hmmmm." Koishi gave Marisa an odd look, and then… moved. There was no retroactive realization, no sudden notice that the satori had been somewhere else all along – just slow, normal movement.

Marisa almost commented on it, but found herself at a loss for words as Koishi simply crawled into bed beside her.

"Is this alright?" Koishi asked, while Marisa's thoughts spent a moment short circuiting.

"…Yeah. Yeah, it is," said Marisa. She hesitated for a moment, and then wrapped her arms around Koishi, who curled up against her.

Marisa could feel Koishi's comfort. Whatever fear she had, it wasn't shared. To her, that was good – she didn't like to treat fear with sympathy.

Her thoughts were cut short by the reminder of Koishi's form, small and warm, curled up against her. It was a quiet, comforting presence, and it brought a simple joy of its own. 'Warm and fuzzy' generally described a cheesy, over-rated set of feelings to Marisa, but right now, it seemed just about right.

Marisa let the last sensations of surprise and unfamiliarity fade, and relaxed.

"You take a while to sleep," murmured Koishi. She didn't shift much, and her breathing was rhythmic and even. "That's okay," she added.

Koishi was safe here, but for once, that wasn't the only matter; Marisa was happy. The future was still the uncertain mass that it always, always was, but now?

This moment was just fine.

If Marisa thought too much, she didn't think too loudly. In between the quiet rhythm of breath and movement, and the settling of any feeling not her own, Marisa could tell that Koishi had fallen asleep.

Marisa smiled at this, and decided that for this moment, rose-colored glasses were alright.

Still smiling, she let herself slowly drift off, her own breath a strange, even rhythm with Koishi's.


	11. Chapter 11 - Strange Gifts

When Marisa woke, she felt quite strange.

There was no jumpstart to the day, no great feeling of difference or force of will – the quiet start to her day was defined by the same, warm rhythm that had accompanied her to sleep.

Koishi hadn't moved. She was smiling in her sleep, and to Marisa, it was an infectious expression – she couldn't help but smile herself.

It was, on the other hand, just a little awkward.

Marisa didn't know what manner of reflex Koishi had for her sleep, or for any scenario like this – and as such, didn't know if any movement would wake her.

The witch was careful and methodical in setting aside thoughts of worry. In hate and apprehension, she was sensitive, but to assume that any little movement might startle or terrify her was foolish. If something did, Marisa would know, and she had no plan to color Koishi's life in shades of second-hand fear.

Any romantic territory, Marisa assumed, would be new. If everyone had feared or hated Koishi before, and the time after had been spent… unconscious, in some sense or another, there wasn't exactly much room for it.

It also occurred to her that Marisa might well be the first outsider that Koishi was so entirely comfortable around. She trusted her sister, and she was at ease with the other residents of the palace, but everybody else outside had been inconsequential while her third eye was closed, and scary to trust when it had been opened.

There was also the matter that she seemed, outside of her own awareness, to share her feelings with Marisa. That nobody else had come running when Koishi had opened her third eye and found herself so completely overwhelmed was proof that she hadn't shared any feeling with anybody else above ground.

For anyone else, Marisa thought, it might be a problem. Dealing with somebody else's foreign feelings could be difficult, confusing, or altogether threatening. If Marisa's persona were more important, if she were more insecure, the thought of somebody else's feelings in her own psyche might be worrying.

But she was who she was, and she organized her thoughts in her own, odd, rapid way. She held on to feelings to understand where they were coming from, so that she could make her own choices with them – and that almost subconscious analysis allowed her to identify what feelings were not her own – and then to alleviate her own worries with that knowledge.

Marisa looked down as she felt Koishi begin to stir.

"Morning, you," she said, smiling. "Can I get up now?"

Koishi opened her eyes, and lingered a moment before moving apart. "I like your thinking," she said, rubbing her eyes.

"Why's that?"

"It's not too loud, but it keeps going. It's a nice sound." Koishi yawned, looked around, and then with a small bounce of her feet seemed to spring to life. "So what are we gonna do today?"

Marisa paused to think about that. There were other places to go and see, but she hadn't decided on any. Did Marisa even need to keep worrying about who Koishi met?

"It's still scary," said Koishi, now drifting through the air in her definitively wrong fashion. "But we can face that. You think nobody is liked by everyone, and I think you're right."

Marisa thought about this, and found herself agreeing with… herself. Right.

Koishi giggled. "So, where do you think next?"

"I guess the mansion's the next in line," said Marisa. "Remilia might get a little bit touchy, if we actually introduce ourselves, since…"

Well, since she was kind of a brat, and Koishi's reading minds and playing with reflex was a tool that the vampire didn't have.

"But she likes Reimu," Koishi said, "and she doesn't care about manners at all."

Marisa paused for a moment to wonder just how the satori had read _that_ , and then voiced her thoughts.

"Hey, how _do_ my memories work for you? I wasn't thinking about that when you saw it, and I don't think I was _going_ to."

"It's not…" Koishi paused for a moment as if thinking. "It's not like the before-thoughts I was reading when my eye was closed."

Marisa remembered that. Koishi, in theory, shouldn't have.

"When people have memories, they just remember little things about them – feelings, a couple details, how the day ended – lots of different things, but just little bits. I can see those bits without my eye," Koishi said, and Marisa knew that meant they were subconscious. "Building those little bits back into the story you remember is a bit of what my eye sees, and a bit of what I see – some of it comes together, some of it you think about to really remember," Koishi said, still looking deep in thought. "And then the story that you get, you think about."

"Can you put other people's memories together, then?" Marisa asked.

"Not really, unless they really let me. Otherwise, I just see little things that make a memory. Like that Remilia likes Reimu." Koishi shrugged.

"So if somebody remembers something wrong," Marisa said, and Koishi finished the sentence.

"Then that's just what they remember. They don't have the truth locked away in there, just whatever's true to them." Koishi drifted by Marisa in the air, and her demeanor lost its focus. "So when do we go?"

"Well, Patchy sleeps a lot, but then again…" Marisa grinned. "It's a beautiful morning, and we should share that!"

Koishi laughed. "I can see her face in your thoughts. She doesn't wake up quickly, does she?'

Marisa gave a joking thumbs up. "Not at all!"

＊ ＊ ＊

The bizarre, utterly effective stealth that Koishi had offered on their first visit was still present now.

Some things, apparently, didn't change, and when it came to free reign over the mansion, Marisa found herself hard-pressed to _want_ any change.

That the cue for invisibility was just to look sneaky in an obvious, silly way was just icing on the invisible cake.

"Patchy sleeps in the library, although it's kinda random where. She _has_ a bed, but she's just asleep at one of the desks, half the time." Marisa grinned. "Those are the best times for setup."

Stealth that slipped by Sakuya. This was so perfect that Marisa almost doubted she was awake.

"The maid is all over the place," said Koishi, "even if you don't see her."

"How can you tell?" said Marisa.

"I can see all her plans," the satori said.

Subconscious plans? Routine? Marisa gave it a mental shrug.

"Yeah. I can see the way around this place…"

And now Koishi could read the mansion's plans off Sakuya's reflex, apparently. She was starting to feel guilty at how perfectly her accomplice was enabling all of her potential shenanigans – it just seemed unfair.

Well, that was how the saying went. All's fair in love and war, and everything sort-of kind-of in between, and everything else that people were complaining about.

Marisa grinned. That was definitely it.

Following Koishi, she found her way into the library, and started scouting around. For all it's complexity, Marisa had a pretty good shot at finding her way around it.

Mostly because she made so many trips to take some short loans – well, she wasn't immortal, so relatively, her loans were kind of maybe potentially infinitely short! That was also definitely it.

Some more searching, and Marisa found herself barely stifling laughter – Patchouli was asleep at a desk, surrounded by a couple books. It seemed like she was making revisions – although Marisa couldn't quite decipher why or what to. Too many cross-references for a glance.

"Now, here's the important part…" Marisa said. "You've gotta be really smooth here," she said, picking up Patchouli's chair. "She's a deep sleeper, but not _that_ deep, so…"

The witch was careful not to make any sudden movements, despite the weight. At the end of her maneuver, Patchouli's chair had its back to a bookshelf.

Marisa took a few moments to reposition the books on the shelf, and then stepped back. "You ready for this?" she asked Koishi, who had begun to giggle uncontrollably.

"I'll take that as a yes."

Marisa produced one small capsule, cast a spell into it, and then put it down at Patchouli's feet, grinning.

"Three… two… one… aaaaaand…"

With a loud _bang_ , the capsule exploded, and Patchouli jumped backwards in her chair, which promptly hit the shelf.

The shelf, having been 'mysteriously' rearranged, then proceeded to empty many of its contents in the obvious, downward direction, leaving the magician buried in her own books.

＊ ＊ ＊

Patchouli Knowledge, still orienting herself from under a pile of books, found herself distinctly aware of a familiar, hysterical, obnoxious laughter.

What precisely had happened was, in light of that, not so much of a mystery. Focusing her particular feelings about this moment, Patchouli broke forth from the pile of her own books, finding exactly who she expected.

" _Kirisame…_ "

Marisa Kirisame, the obnoxious, incessant witch, somehow started laughing even harder. Maybe, Patchouli thought, she would suffocate.

Another few seconds of hysterical laughter made it clear to Patchouli that yes, that would be the optimal outcome here.

" _How,_ " she said at last, her outrage still in full force, "did you get past Sakuya?"

Marisa, still laughing too hard, didn't answer, but Patchouli quickly became aware of a second voice.

This girl—Patchouli stopped, and realized that she remembered _writing_ about Marisa's current accomplice, but remembered nothing of her role in any previous interaction.

 _Koishi Komeiji_ , she recalled, _sister of Satori Komeiji, Mistress of the Palace of the Earth Spirits. A satori who closed her third eye, making her unable to read any mind, even her own – but granting her the ability to read and manipulate the subconscious._

Notes she had written, and again, remembered writing, indicated that it was next to impossible to notice her if she was trying to remain undetected – your reflex simply directed you not to look where she was, to feel with certainty that there was nothing there. Marisa had said that trying to remember her was hard – that thoughts of her simply slid out of memory.

Well, that would certainly explain how their rat got in undetected.

Except… her third eye was open.

"Yeah, that's Koishi," said Marisa, finally managing words through her laughter. "I told you to make notes last time, right?"

"And they indicate that her third eye should be closed," said Patchouli. She was still considering revenge, and what would be suiting.

"It was, the first time! Things happened since then, though." Marisa grinned, and Patchouli, just once, found herself desiring some manner of physical strength with which to adjust the witch's expression.

"I promise you, though," said Marisa, "she's a good kid!"

"Truly, a great shame that she had to have the worst possible influence." Patchouli sighed. It was _far_ too early for this. "Sakuya!"

Sakuya Izayoi, as she always did, appeared in an instant, and Patchouli noted that her expression remained motionless and professional, which was quite an accomplishment in this case.

"We have intruders," the magician said, waving a hand.

"Hey, you remember me!" said Koishi, and it was then that Sakuya's demeanor cracked, for just a moment.

"It would be exceedingly poor form _not_ to," Sakuya replied. "Especially given your ability."

But the satori went on, all but lost to fascination. Patchouli, on the other hand, noticed that Marisa's obnoxious humor gave way to… was that unease?

"People don't remember," said Koishi, floating into the air with a motion that didn't match her movement. "But you do? It's about time, right? You just keep everything in its place, because time's so different to you that it has to fit… a schedule?"

Sakuya, now clearly offput, shot the satori a cold glare, which extended to Marisa. Koishi stopped in her speech, looking surprised, and then took one step back.

But Marisa, in spite of her caricature, looked more and more tense. Was she… angry? Given her usual self, it was hard to tell.

Patchouli, rarely one for emotional consideration or careful observation of anything beyond the facts, still found herself erring on the side of safety here – whatever a serious snap from Marisa Kirisame looked like, Patchouli didn't want to find out in her library.

And so, she raised one hand. "On second thought," she said, glancing at Sakuya, "it's fine. I'll entertain them, for now."

"Very well," said Sakuya, her composure once again spotless, and disappeared.

In the silence that followed, Patchouli spoke first. "It's unlike you," she said, "to come here to disrupt my morning while wearing such an open vulnerability." It wasn't mockery. Patchouli didn't tend to worry about much, but if nothing else, the novelty of the situation warranted some serious interest.

Marisa didn't grin or offer any nonsense response, in turn. "I didn't quite think this through," she said, but she said it as if this _was_ actually something to be ashamed of.

"She's… she was angry," said Koishi, looking almost stunned. "Not afraid, not full of hate, just angry. It was like I attacked her."

Patchouli took a moment to put things together. If the satori – Koishi Komeiji – had only recently re-opened her third eye, and could still manipulate subconscious…

"You've trapped yourself into caring, haven't you?" Patchouli asked, with a wry smile.

"Not at all! I chose to," said Marisa, her smile still seeming out of character.

"At the cost of turnabout and humor, even. I would ask if you're in love, but somehow, I doubt I'd be the first."

"No, no you wouldn't!" Marisa said, showing mock outrage. "But at least I know it's obvious, by now."

Koishi looked over to Marisa, breaking her worried expression for a moment, and Marisa, without hesitation, swept her up into a hug.

"Please, tell me you didn't come to my library for public displays of affection," Patchouli said. It was a little hard to tell if she had a headache, or if Marisa's existence _as_ a headache was simply rubbing off on her.

"Fine, fine," said Marisa. "You did kinda bail us out of that one," she added, letting go of Koishi, who continued to hover oddly in the air.

"If you're going to go legitimately ballistic, this is the last place I'd want to observe it," Patchouli replied, waving a hand. "I take it you're showing her around, then?"

"Yeah," said Marisa. "You don't care what she sees, do you?"

"Sharing knowledge without having to worry about my collection seems like an outright relieving prospect, compared to _you_."

Marisa laughed, and the satori seemed to ease up a little. She was still nervous – one poor reaction was not, apparently, so easy to overcome. Even so, she spoke, looking at Patchouli with an expression of earnest interest.

What an odd way to look at people.

"Your mind looks a lot like this library," said Koishi, kicking one foot in and out as she took a seat in the air. "And it looks to me like that's how you think, and you just have to make the library look like that. It's so organized…"

Patchouli raised one eyebrow. "I don't know how else you'd remember that much over the years."

Koishi glanced at Marisa, and then giggled, and Patchouli sighed.

"For my own sake, we're not going to classify her," the magician said, waving a hand dismissively. "She's a rat."

"Rats sound pretty cool," said Marisa, reading a random book.

"Put that down," said Patchouli, and to her surprise, Marisa did, making a mock pout. Apparently, favors were worth something.

 _That_ was worth knowing.

"I've never seen somebody who thinks so much like that, though," said Koishi. "Some people are more or less organized… but you've just got a library, and a system for it."

"I think more people could use to think that way, but that's hardly something I can control." Idly, Patchouli made her way over to her relocated chair, and began shelving the books that had fallen.

"And you don't think about that, because you know this place by heart. It's neat!" Koishi said, still perched on nothing. Her strange movements were an odd characteristic – possible, given the nature of levitation, and also given that she could move outside of one's reflexive vision – but seemingly natural and unintentional.

"I don't notice them," said Koishi, replying to thought almost idly.

Koishi paused for a moment, and then, looking a little sad, asked, "what happened with the maid? Sakuya?"

Patchouli paused, pondering what was and wasn't open history, and then quickly revising the thought process to ponder how stupid it was to ponder that in the face of somebody who could read minds.

Marisa, on the other hand, spoke first. "Y'know how I wear this whole character of the insane, carefree witch, right? I mean, it's mostly accurate, but it still takes a bit of acting and makes a few choices for me."

Patchouli stifled any surprise. Whatever care for the satori she had, it was entirely serious, because for anything else, Marisa Kirisame would be caught dead before being serious in a public ground.

"And you feel a bit uncomfortable if you don't get to wear it," said Koishi. "Even now, right?"

Marisa looked to Patchouli, offering an odd half-smile, and said, "yeah."

"Do go on, Kirisame," said Patchouli, who in turn offered a smirk. "I'm intrigued, for once."

Marisa offered a joking grin in reply, but went on with the same weight as she had started. "Sakuya kinda looks like a person who's just trying to be that impression. One-hundred percent – she's the 'perfect and elegant maid' or whatever, but that's who she's trying to be.

"And I mean, she does a good job of it. But there's no real rumors about where she came from, how old she is – anything about her. Any ones that are around are totally baseless – no information, no certain stories, nothing. So instead of putting on an extra layer of acting for fun or to be cool, she bases her life around being the perfect maid."

Marisa sat back in her chair, and went on when Patchouli offered no correction. "So you probably saw something about her nobody had in a long, long time, and that's threatening, if she doesn't want anyone to see."

Koishi landed normally, and looked down, kicking at the floor. "Sis said it was possible to keep your mind from really being readable – if you practice keeping enough noise around or going over random routines."

"That what she was like?" asked Marisa.

"Yeah…" Koishi shook her head. "It was the bits of memory I saw, not thought, but she remembered me."

"If you live outside much of time," Patchouli said, "you have to organize your memories very differently to keep track of things. Mortals with such powers have gone quite mad."

"You have a book," said Koishi.

"Yes, there's a published diary of one such person, and I have it catalogued."

"Does that mean Sakuya's immortal, then?" Marisa asked, and Patchouli shook her head.

"You're not going to find any good answer to that one," she said, and Koishi nodded.

"Why was she angry, though?" Koishi asked. "People get afraid of what I see. Sometimes that turns into being angry, or just… hating me, but she wasn't afraid. She didn't hate me, either. She was just… mad."

"If you're a fighter, and someone attacks you," replied Patchouli, fitting another book into place, "you won't be afraid, and there's no point in hating a new arrival."

"It wasn't an attack!" said Koishi, and she seemed to shrink away.

"It doesn't have to be one. You caught her off-guard, and I would venture to say that the manner in which you did so was entirely unique."

" _Is_ she going to hate me?" Marisa, Patchouli noticed, faintly mirrored Koishi's expressions. Was there a manner of empathetic bond at play?

"Ironically enough," Patchouli said, looking Koishi in the eyes, "only time will tell."

＊ ＊ ＊

It was, suitably enough, hard to guess what Sakuya would decide to believe, in the end.

On one hand, the maid supposedly had all the time in the world to think, entirely privately.

But on the other hand, without knowing anything more about her, it was all but impossible to estimate what that time would yield.

Marisa rarely put this much thought into gauging and watching people. She had always paid surprising amounts of attention to seemingly random things, but, well, in the end, it wasn't at all her style to care what people thought.

Koishi's presence in her life had changed that, and Marisa wondered whether the focus of her observation was a product of concern, or an element of change simply introduced by it – whether she would continue to watch people and their little details when Koishi's sensitivity began to settle with time.

For now, though, it was irrelevant. It was a fact of life that somewhere out there, some time or another, there would be people who would hate you because of who or what you were. Sometimes, this could be helped – sometimes, it was even legitimate, but sometimes, it was impossible to change.

"Well, thanks," said Marisa, breaking from her thoughts for a moment. "Geez, now I feel bad for waking you like that."

"Do forgive me if I enjoy that fact a little too much," said Patchouli, smirking. "It's almost an appreciable fraction of justice. Almost."

"Yeah, yeah… well, having her help is like cheating, anyway," said Marisa. "Nobody notices you, and she can somehow figure out how to get around. It's fun, though!"

"Not to mention you're a tragically bad influence on her."

"What? Me? I think the world just needs a little more excitement." Marisa grinned, and gave a mocking salute.

Koishi, on the other hand, still seemed stuck in thought.

"Alright, we're heading out, so we'll see you around! Maybe a _little_ later, next time." Marisa waved, and Patchouli failed to provide any farewell, as she often did.

Still thinking, Marisa took a slower flight out, and Koishi simply hovered along, beside her.

"I don't know if she'll get over it," said Marisa. "She doesn't share much. That happens, though, and she's certainly not going to try and do anything to you."

"It happened to you," said Koishi. "I can see that."

"Yeah. I can talk about it, if you want."

"You don't like to." Koishi was… worried.

"I don't like to talk about it in public. I'm insane and carefree, not troubled and hurt, y'know?" Marisa offered Koishi a smile, "I'm happy enough to share it with you."

"But you don't like to think about it." Koishi shook her head. "Don't I make a lot of things harder for you?"

"If you spend a lot of time going around with anybody, they'll make things harder for you eventually. Not because they mean it, or because everyone's horrible, but just 'cause everyone's different, and the more time you spend with them, the more likely that _some_ difference gets on somebody's nerves. But…" Marisa glanced down, noticing the shore as it neared. "If both people want to stick around, then they can choose to work with that. It's not easy, sometimes, and nobody can do everything, even if they really want to."

As they cleared the Misty Lake, Marisa picked a random spot on the ground to land on, and continued. "Have I had to change things to keep showing you around and make sure things are alright? Yeah, but… I chose to do that. It's not your fault, and it's not a choice I regret. If you can feel when I'm worried or frustrated, you can feel when I'm happy too, yeah?"

"Yeah…" Koishi still looked uncertain.

"Ah, geez… c'mere, you," Marisa said, wrapping her arms around the satori. "Don't you get all worried about me; I'll tell ya when something needs to change."

Koishi hugged back, and held on tightly. "I want to see who you were," she said.

"Old memories and all, you mean?" Marisa wasn't entirely enthusiastic about the prospect, but it was neither terrifying nor unbearable.

"Yeah. I can tell, when you can feel what I feel," said Koishi. "But I can't always tell why."

"Mmm, alright," said Marisa, finally letting go as she felt Koishi's pain dim. "Do you have any fancy way of exploring those memories, or do I just tell you?"

"You think I could remake them for myself, right?"

"'cause you said there's the subconscious cues, and you can mess with my reflex. And you can read my mind… I dunno. I'm happy enough to just tell you."

"Mmm… wait and see," said Koishi, looking over the lake. "But soon."

"Alright. So," said Marisa, "you coming back home with me?"

"For now," said Koishi. "But not for the night. Sis will get worried – she says I can be wherever I want, but she worries a lot – and you're pretty tired ."

"Well, you've got me there. Don't think that's your fault, though, alright? It's just crazy when people see something like that and then decide it's all their fault and that somebody can't decide for themself them they need a break."

"I know, I know," Koishi said, smiling. "You get annoyed when people are silly, when they think they're serious."

"…huh. Not a bad way to describe it."

"Yeah, but I like it! It's better to be silly on purpose."

"And with explosions," Marisa added. "The bigger, the better."

Koishi giggled.

"Anyway," Marisa said, feeling a little less worried now, "let's get us home."

＊ ＊ ＊

Marisa was, as Koishi had guessed, tired now.

That didn't necessarily make it easy to sleep. She wanted a plan, or some way to face the fact in the case that unwelcome insight was a silver bullet to Sakuya's carefully constructed personality.

But the way to face the fact… was to face it. Maybe it was too much, and even in strange, carefree Gensokyo, Koishi simply disturbed somebody too much to get along.

That was life. Always had been, always would be. It just wasn't Marisa's own life to accept.

And baby-sitting somebody else's life was acceptable, anyway? Marisa scoffed to herself. The affection and the care were one thing – the constant worry that somebody might look down on Koishi was something that would, in the end, have to go.

Koishi wouldn't care where or what Sakuya had come from, of course. But that wasn't the point – that she _could_ know was the problem.

And that was another pointless thought.

Marisa sighed. This was going to be one of _those_ problems – the kind that one kept coming back to, even knowing that any more thought was pointless.

Most of those problems were best solved with explosions. If something was in an awkward state, then you could make it much, much easier to identify after blasting it all to total chaos.

Marisa rolled over in her bed, and sighed, hearing Patchouli's statement echo through her own thoughts – time. Time would be needed, and there was no way for the witch to change or pass that.

She almost – almost – hoped that the rest of the mansion might get involved. At least there'd be something to work at, then. And then, she sighed again, because wishful thinking was just that

This night was going to be a long one.


	12. Chapter 12 - Unpaintable Colours

Koishi was still uncertain.

Not everyone would like her. Nobody in this world would try to kill her. She was aware of both these facts.

What she wasn't aware of was what to _do_ with these facts.

Was there some step of the process, some wrapping of an invisible bandage where she could pit these facts against her own feelings and fix the problem? Where she would suddenly feel better because of the facts she possessed?

 _No,_ came another thought. It was her sister's.

There was a simplicity in comfort in a satori's family – to share thoughts in two directions, without any word needed.

 _The facts keep you at bay,_ Satori went on, _they let you know when not to act out_.

 _But they can't fix your feelings_ , thought Koishi.

 _No._ Satori took a seat on the side of Koishi's bed, a sad smile on her face. _We learn to live with those feelings. And sometimes… we're surprised._

As her sister thought the last words, images of Koishi – herself – floated through visible thought. Hurt, asleep, awake, and then once again with open eye.

She could feel the aimless gratitude, the deep, sorrowful joy, even now. That Koishi had begun to see the world again meant impossible amounts to her older sister.

 _I don't know how to deal with pain, sis. I don't think I ever did._

Satori put one hand on Koishi's shoulder, and Koishi leaned towards her.

 _If there's some way to close it all and stop feeling, I have yet to find it,_ thought the older sister. _We learn to live alongside it, to argue with ourselves that the joy outweighs the pain, that the world is worth this life._

 _It is! It is…_

 _I've never known another with your heights of joy._

 _You've always been here for me. I know you love me._

 _I've tried my best. I hope it's enough. You believe it's enough._

 _It is. You've been the best sister I could ever ask for._

Feelings and thoughts shifted, almost indistinct between the two shared minds.

 _Marisa! She loves me, in her own weird way._

Surprise, confusion, many little questions cut off by one another. Koishi could see her own memories, and she knew Satori could, as well.

 _I… see_.

 _You're nervous._

More feelings and thoughts mixed. If the sisters' shared thoughts had started like a conversation, it had quickly become its own, unique construct. In complete comfort, thoughts were hard to tell apart, and with Koishi, feelings were too.

 _I expected it, really. To spend that long, with all you have, and to genuinely appreciate you as she does…_

 _She doesn't like denial, but she just—she's so happy about how happy I can be, she's excited about the same things I am – she's excited_ for _me._

 _I'd trust her with everything - except, well, any belongings. I_ do _trust her,_ Satori corrected herself.

Satori was, to some extent, comforted by Koishi's own feelings of comfort. What she had seen of Marisa Kirisame's mind was chaotic, fast, and overlapping, but it was self-aware and without malice. There was no jest to the great depths of appreciation she had for Koishi.

Koishi, unsure what love meant beyond family, still knew what she knew – around Marisa, she was safe, she was excited to see what happened next, and she felt a quiet, inexplicable joy in presence. She was accepted – and appreciated – for what she was, with the odd, black and white magician.

Internal points of view and quiet thoughts blended for a few moments further, before Satori spoke more formally. "Well, are you alright?"

"Yeah… it's still scary, but it's alright." Koishi hopped off her bed, smiling. "I'm still excited! I still want to see a new day."

"Alright," Satori smiled, and pulled her sister into a hug. "Stay just a little safe out there, alright?"

"Yeah, I know," said Koishi, giggling. "If everything goes wrong, I'll make sure they get Marisa first."

＊ ＊ ＊

Marisa sighed as she heard a knocking on her door. Was Satori up here again? Had she done something wrong?

The answer was – well, in all honesty, the answer was always yes, because Marisa Kirisame was a person who made a point of doing _something_ as wrong as she possibly could when the opportunity arose. But the answer to this particular case was no.

Opening the door, she found Koishi standing there, smiling a little too much.

"…did you read my reflex to know how much that throws me off, or did you just think it'd be funny to try?"

Koishi laughed, and Marisa grinned. "I dunno," the satori said, still smiling, "I didn't really think about it."

"And nobody suggested that?"

"Nope!"

Marisa laughed. "I'm teaching you well, then!"

Silence fell for a moment, and Koishi cut in. "You forgot an experiment inside," she said.

Marisa didn't even blink. Calmly, she reached up and lifted her hat off her head. A second later, a blast of energy bolted just over the witch's head.

"Thanks," she said, grinning. "Wouldn't want to damage the hat!"

"You weren't totally sure it was going there," said Koishi.

"Sometimes, you gotta take a hit in the name of magic. If I was wrong, then what better way to find out?" Marisa shrugged, and put her hat back on. "Anyways, do you know what you wanna do today?"

Koishi paused in thought, and Marisa could feel the odd, deliberate impulses that passed through her feelings. Memory, it seemed, was still a little strange for Koishi to call on deliberately.

And then, she thought. Marisa felt little flashes of fear and uncertainty… and felt them give way to an odd focus. "I want to go back to the mansion. Without sneaking."

"So… blast our way in? They're not gonna let me in." Marisa didn't particularly mind the prospect, but Koishi seemed more serious.

"Maybe I can ask nicely," said Koishi, floating into the air. "But I wanna see for myself."

"What's that mean?" Marisa asked. She thought she knew – but she wasn't fond of guessing when things were serious.

"I want to see that even if somebody hates me, they won't take it out on me. I want to see that if I come back to visit the next day, they're not all going to become afraid of me in that time." Koishi looked at Marisa, eyes wide, fear and resolve side by side in her expression. "Everyone says that the world's different now, but I want to _see_ that."

Marisa paused a moment, staring back at Koishi, and then smiled. "Alright, alright. I'll take you over, don't you worry. I hate it when everyone tells you something and won't let you find out for yourself, anyways. You've probably noticed!"

The witch was only slightly surprised when Koishi tackled her in an overenthusiastic hug.

"Thanks," said Koishi, holding on tightly. Marisa had noticed that her hugs tended to last a while, although she certainly didn't mind.

"You're brave," said Marisa. "All your old fears, and you just want to look for yourself."

"I'm learning from you," Koishi replied. "I want to see the future. I want to see the world again, and you lead the way for me."

"I'm happy to," said Marisa, letting go as Koishi did. "I'm crazy and reckless and don't stop to think long enough when it comes to the future, but it makes me really happy to have you along for the ride, y'know? You're as excited about all the new, strange things as I am."

"Yeah!" Koishi hopped up into the air. "Can we go now?"

"Sure can." Marisa grabbed her broom from the doorway and took a quick step outside. "Hop on!"

＊ ＊ ＊

"Halt!"

Marisa grinned as Meiling spotted her, immediately taking stance. This was a part of many trips to the library that was, inconvenient or not, always fun. Marisa reached for her Hakkero…

And stopped as Koishi took Meiling's exact stance, looking altogether quite pleased with herself.

Meiling's expression didn't hide her surprise. She stepped backwards, shifting her form fluidly into a defensive position, and Koishi… did the same. Despite the difference in size and person, the movements were all but identical.

Given the intricacy of the movements, Marisa could already tell what was happening – Koishi was reading Meiling's reflex – the reflex of a practiced martial artist – and mimicking it perfectly with her own.

"What…" Meiling stopped, relaxing her stance, and looked to Marisa. "What did you do?" She demanded, pointing.

Marisa raised her hands, grinning. "I didn't plan this one! She's doing that all on her own."

"As if I'd believe you," said Meiling, stepping towards Marisa—

And promptly stopping as Koishi mimicked the movement again.

"That's a really smooth movement," she said, looking at her own stance. "You've practiced it a lot, right?"

"Wh—are you making fun of me? I'll—"

"No! It's really nice – the movements are smooth, and it makes you feel… clear." Koishi hopped up into the air, smiling in earnest. "One stance moves into the next… like water! If you practice like this, your body has to be in great shape. Even if you're immortal!"

Now Meiling was entirely confused, and Marisa couldn't help but laugh. "She's not making fun of you, I promise!" she said, still laughing.

"Then what—how? It takes years to move like that." Meiling paused, and added, "I can see the third eye, but it doesn't matter if she can see what I'm thinking, that still takes practice."

"Koishi's special," said Marisa. "Why don't you show her something?" she added, grinning.

"Like what?" asked Koishi, now leaning back on thin air, as she often did.

"I dunno. Something weird and reflexive, right."

Meiling looked at Marisa with a dubious expression – and then showed surprise, and then did a quick double-take. She took a moment to stare at Marisa's outfit, and then shook her head, and then stared at it again. "Wait, what…?"

"It's just a witch's—"

"No, no, it was blue and gold for a moment there, I—" Meiling cut herself off, and then said, "Oh."

"Yep! It's reflex. She's probably just reading yours."

"Yeah! Your reflex is so smooth, though," said Koishi, now floating upside down beside Marisa.

"I've practiced it for a long time," said Meiling, relaxing for a moment, "and that's what it's meant to be like."

"It's like water! One form flows into another, without opening or strain. Or something like that…" Koishi said, looking at a spot in midair. "I can't remember the exact phrasing you have."

Marisa, meanwhile, started a casual stroll towards the mansion gates.

"Stop right there!" Meiling turned around, taking stance again and clearly trying to ignore Koishi's mimicry. "I'm not distracted enough for that. If you want to get in, you'll have to go through me!"

Marisa grinned. This part was always fun. She reached for her Hakkero…

And stopped short of it.

"Lady Patchouli will see you now," said Sakuya, suddenly present. "Provided," she added, "that you remain in her sight at all times."

"What about Koishi?"

"That applies to both of you."

"Oh, come on!" said Meiling, slumping. "I try to do my job and this is the one time you're actually allowed in?"

Marisa, on the other hand, was a little surprised. For Sakuya to notice the altercation at the gates was no surprise at all – she seemed ever aware of anything that happened in or near the mansion – but that Patchouli would actually send orders to let them in was unusual.

It was not the greatest shock, considering the unusual seriousness that the previous visit had wound up showing – Patchouli had known Marisa for a while, but not as long as, say, Alice or Reimu – given that much time less, any serious side was bound to inspire some curiosity.

"Well, alright. Just this once," said Marisa, raising her hands in the air as if it meant something.

Koishi looked to Marisa, and Marisa thought back at her.

 _Come on in,_ she thought, _I'm not going to blow anything up, just this once._

＊ ＊ ＊

Koishi couldn't feel anything from the maid, now. Not hate, not fear, not anger, nor anything positive. Her thoughts were a constant organization and iteration of countless little things about the mansion – anything deeper or more personal was altogether crowded out, invisible to the third eye.

This was better than her past had trained her to expect – if people held hatred, it didn't remain hidden for long – but it was also difficult. In the face of obscuring trains of thought and completely restrained emotion, there was no answer to the question of hatred or fear, no clear judgment to be made.

It was driving Marisa crazy, too, Koishi could tell. The black-white magician spent a lot of effort keeping worry at bay, trying her best to let Koishi be free of any external fear, and she was thankful for that. She could, on the other hand, _see_ this effort in thoughts and emotions. Actions were what spoke, but Koishi could see the expressions and gestures that came before any words.

The maid – Sakuya – was unusual, on the other hand. Of the ways people had responded poorly to Koishi's third eye, hers was unique – it was a reflexive, visceral anger, priming defenses and other reflexes for battle. There was no judgment, no pointed hatred – it was as if the maid's emotions had simply responded to an attempt on her life.

Which, if things were simple, meant that the maid wanted nobody to share her past – and that attempts to pry were, to her, legitimate attacks.

Koishi, for now, settled on believing that things were simple. It was a theory she could understand, and the needless complexities of the mind were still overwhelming.

＊ ＊ ＊

"So," said Patchouli, setting a book aside. "What brings you here again so soon?"

Marisa raised her hands, glancing in the Satori's direction. Patchouli wasn't, against her better judgment, particularly suspicious at the moment. Despite the chaos that the witch seemed to bring with her everywhere, it seemed that Koishi was somehow more important.

Koishi looked back at Marisa, suddenly becoming apparent. Patchouli wondered if there was anybody out there who _wouldn't_ find her movements the slightest amount unsettling.

Well, aside from Kirisame.

"I wanted to see for myself," said Koishi, now hanging off a bookshelf. Patchouli caught herself short of reprimanding the odd satori when she realized that she was, in fact, hovering just above the bookshelf, avoiding any weight on it.

"You get really stressed if the books are _actually_ in trouble," she added, still sitting on nothing. Marisa chuckled, and Patchouli chose not to dignify either the remark or the amusement.

Koishi went on. "When people were that surprised by me before, they'd hate me by the next day, or soon after that. Especially if they were angry or afraid."

The satori hopped down from her nonexistent perch, and for once did reality the dignity of landing on real ground. "The maid – Sakuya – she was _angry_ when I saw her. I wanted to see if she'd hate me now."

"Even if she did," Patchouli replied, her tone altogether neutral, "she would never act on it."

"That's what Marisa said." Koishi looked idly at various books on the library's countless shelves. "But I wanted to see it for myself, even if everyone else says it's different now."

"You really are learning from her, then," Patchouli said. In some sense, it was a small tragedy that somebody so innocent would have Marisa Kirisame as their worldly guide.

All scorn aside, though, it was obvious enough that the two cared about each other a great deal. Marisa Kirisame, the reckless thief, was currently holding back her insanity and her irritating faux kleptomania for Koishi's sake.

"There isn't a book on what happens when a satori like me closes their eye," said Koishi.

Patchouli took a moment to start wondering just that, and then arrived at the answer that the satori had read, carefully setting aside a healthy dose of cognitive dissonance. Had she just read a thought before it became conscious?

"Yeah, sometimes I can see that. People have the answers before they really get the words in their heads, sometimes."

Interesting. If there were more people like this, then there would no doubt be far more on the subject of unconscious psychology in her library now.

"Sis said I was the first, at least that anyone actually knew about." Koishi swung one arm around, idly, and kept talking. "People thought that a satori who closed their eye would just stop working at all, like you couldn't do anything without reading your own thoughts."

It would, for the most part, be impossible to understand life without thought as a thinking being.

"But I didn't. I don't really remember what happened while my eye was closed, unless something just… _feels_ familiar."

"And you remember Kirisame?"

"Yeah…"

Patchouli was not, ordinarily, fond of unfamiliar knowledge. This could come as a surprise to people who had only known her in passing – how could somebody so thoroughly and systematically maintain an endless library and yet disdain learning?

It was, in the end, the unfamiliarity itself that was the problem. Patchouli had an encyclopedic knowledge of almost everything because she so hated to be caught off-guard, making a fool of herself with estimates made while off-balance.

Koishi, she thought, would be the exception – there was absolutely nothing, in the end, that she could find threat with from this girl. While the magician would normally rather be caught dead than be found wanting for knowledge in front of Marisa Kirisame, the witch's usual derision had proven a lower priority than caring for the odd Satori.

"If you don't mind," said Patchouli, "I'm going to take notes."

"On me?"

"As you said," Patchouli said, smiling faintly, "there are no significant writings on your current state."

＊ ＊ ＊

Marisa Kirisame was, in spite of herself, relieved. While there was some degree of embarrassment to being such an ordinary presence, it took a back seat to secondhand joy.

Koishi was, where there was no malice, altogether overjoyed to be open. She couldn't answer many of Patchouli's questions in any conventional sense, but she didn't mind being asked. Marisa, from both curiosity and concern, was also listening closely.

"And what do you remember of Kirisame, then?" Patchouli wrote by hand, despite the vast utility of the many, many spells she possessed. Given her impossibly neat handwriting, that was probably standard fare.

"From when my eye was closed?" Koishi asked, and Patchouli nodded. "Hmmm…"

Koishi giggled. "Now Marisa's interested, too."

Marisa laughed, and replied in turn. "I can't help it!" Patchouli rolled her eyes, but it had little force behind it; if Marisa had to guess, it was a habit she had instilled in Patchouli.

"Well," Koishi went on, looking at her feet as she thought back. "I remember things we did, sort of – there's images, but it's like I'd forgotten until I see – I don't have words for things like that. I remembered who she was, I remember trying to think about her.

"I couldn't, then. But it was the first time I'd really _tried_ to hold a thought, then." Koishi kicked the ground idly, and then seemed to perk up, bouncing out of deeper thought. "I dunno! That's all I've got, really."

"That's alright," said Patchouli, penning another line of her notes. And then, setting them down, she smiled, and said something that surprised Marisa.

"You've probably heard this before, but holding distain for you will, for the majority, be a task of monumental difficulty. I'm not sure," she added, "if this is exceptionally important to you, but given Kirisame's exceedingly uncharacteristic quantities of concern for you, I would hazard the guess that some of it stems from your own personal experience."

Koishi looked puzzled for a moment, and then realization seemed to dawn on her, followed by a sincere happiness. "Thanks!" she said, hopping into the air.

"You read her thoughts instead of trying to get what she just said, didn't you," said Marisa, elbowing Koishi. Patchouli's vocabulary was one matter, but her rate of speech tended to outpace any standard, as well.

"Yep!" Koishi, on the other hand, was shameless, and Patchouli didn't seem to mind. To her, it was probably better than an entirely confused reaction, anyways.

"Now, is there anything else you need?" Patchouli asked, filing the page of notes into a book.

"Unless Koishi wants something else, that's all, I think," said Marisa, stretching.

"I want to see the maid again. Sakuya," said Koishi, her expression suddenly serious.

"Seeing as you are… guests," said Patchouli, showing visible distaste using the term for Marisa. "Sakuya will see to your departure."

"Alright," said Koishi. Her expression, as open as ever, was one of building resolve now.

"Don't," Patchouli added, raising one hand, "steal anything. You are, against your better judgment or otherwise, here to ask favors of me."

"I wasn't even thinking it," said Marisa, lying through her teeth for cheap amusement.

"I'm sure," was the unimpressed reply. "Sakuya?"

Sakuya Izayoi appeared in an instant, and the manner in which she simply did was almost strange to Marisa, now – there was no catching up of perspective or bizarre, subconscious attempt to justify what had just happened.

"How may I be of assistance?"

"They're finished with their matters here," said Patchouli, gesturing to Marisa and Koishi.

"Very well. Follow me," said Sakuya, looking to the two of them. "The layout of the mansion is far from ordinary."

Whatever she had against Koishi now, it didn't prevent customs towards new guests.

The three walked in silence for some time, and the sheer formality of it was painfully awkward to Marisa. For Koishi's sake, she put up with it.

And indeed, it was Koishi who broke the silence.

"Um…"

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry." Koishi looked at Sakuya, concern mixed with fear in her expression.

"You're sorry?" Sakuya raised one eyebrow. If her demeanor had shown cracks before, it was entirely solid now.

"For reading the way I did. For talking about it, at least," said Koishi. "I can't control what I see, and I still see a lot of things. It's hard to tell apart, sometimes. Information gets mixed up – I don't know if I heard someone say something, or if they just thought about it, sometimes. I didn't mean to attack you, I was just… surprised."

There was a longer silence, and Sakuya spared a backwards glance. Marisa nodded, altogether entirely serious now.

Finally, Sakuya let out a small sigh, almost inaudibly. "Well, you're certainly an odd one, even for Gensokyo. I suppose that shouldn't be a surprise."

"Is that… okay?"

Sakuya's expression seemed to lose its professional edge. "Well, I can assure you that I won't hold it against you. I would ask you, however, not to repeat that incident."

Koishi tilted her head, but didn't ask further.

"My employ is as the chief maid, here," Sakuya added, now wearing a thin smile. "Any personal matters I may have are not only unimportant, but altogether removed from my occupation." Her smile faded, and once again, she was the picture of a professional.

"An occupation that is, of course, full-time."

＊ ＊ ＊

"Are you alright?" Marisa asked, waving at Meiling as she and Koishi left the mansion.

Koishi took some time to answer, and when she did, it was with another question. "Do you think people tried to hurt her before?"

"Sakuya?"

"Yeah." Koishi bit her lip for a moment, and then continued speaking. "Whenever I'm afraid to talk about my past, or let people see me, it's because of what people did before when I let them get near me. Do you think she's the same?"

"Honestly?" said Marisa, shaking her head. "I have no idea. Some people's issues are obvious. They just don't deal with them well, and you can just tell by what upsets them what the problem is." Marisa shrugged. "All people like that hide is their story. You can see when they're upset, when they're afraid… Sakuya's not like that."

"No," said Koishi, still deep in thought. "She doesn't want anyone to see any of it."

"Yeah. But she hides it all and she does her job. If she's ever upset, she doesn't bring it into anything she does. If she's angry, her face doesn't change, and nobody says anything about her past. Any rumors are pretty much useless, 'cause with the information she lets anyone have, they all have to be blind guesses." Marisa shrugged. "I was the first kinda person, once. Never been like her."

"But… she doesn't hate me." Koishi said, still staring ahead.

"I think you gave her a scare," replied Marisa. "You let something slip that she's kept under wraps for as long as she's been here in Gensokyo, and probably a lot longer."

"Yeah…" Koishi sighed, but seemed to relax. "I didn't mean to, it was just… it was unusual. Like you."

"Well, she said it's alright, so I wouldn't worry about it." Marisa looked over to Koishi, who was still looking off into the distance, and then reached over and picked her up, pulling her into a hug. "C'mere, you."

Koishi hugged her back, and Marisa didn't feel anything too strongly from her.

"You alright?"

"Yeah."

＊ ＊ ＊

Marisa laid back in her bed, giving in to her fatigue for a brief moment. Worrying was tiring, for her, even if it was a choice.

Koishi was floating quietly around the mess that was Marisa's home, idly looking from thing to thing. Was she matching knowledge to Marisa's own reflex?

"It's not the same, knowing something and feeling somebody else knowing it," said Koishi, replying without looking back. She still seemed a little diminished, herself – Marisa knew that there was guilt, regardless of the logic of it. Accepting that was harder than accepting more direct consequences, but beyond that tolerance and acceptance, there was nothing to be done – getting irritated and declaring how unnecessary it was wouldn't help anything.

Besides, once you felt guilty about guilt, there was no lower bound, and that could just get silly.

Marisa waited in silence, for some time, her thoughts more incomplete and aimless than usual. She _was_ tired – and as if to balance that with some reassurance, Koishi's presence provided no discomfort. Whatever caricature Marisa chose to embody, any worry at showing the satori what lay beneath was long gone.

"When did people look at you like that?" said Koishi, breaking the silence.

"Like wha?" Marisa sat up in her bed, stretching. It wasn't quite time to give into fatigue yet.

"Like they used to look at me. With fear, or hate, or anything like that."

"Now, sometimes, but mostly when I was a lot younger."

"How come?" Koishi was now at Marisa's side, an odd look in her eyes.

Marisa laughed, and pointed to her own hat. "I'm human, Koishi. Everything I _am_ makes most other humans uncomfortable. Magic is for Youkai and other strange things. Shrine maidens are there to protect them, but they're outside of things."

"And you were always like that?"

"I didn't always dress like this, but I loved magic. It was strange, and nobody knew everything about it all – that was exciting, to me." Marisa smiled. "Still is."

Koishi took a seat on the bedside, kicking at the air idly. "So how'd you wind up like you are now, then?"

"Mmm, that's a bit of a longer story," Marisa said, shaking her head. "I'm tired, now. If you want the whole story, no mind-reading or anything, you'll have to wait 'til tomorrow."

"Okay," said Koishi. "Can I stay here tonight?"

"Of course."

Marisa laid back in her bed, and Koishi flopped down on top of her, somehow lacking any weight in the action.

Koishi curled up, and Marisa could feel her breath begin to take a quiet rhythm; it seemed the satori was quick to sleep.

Quick to dream? There were a lot of possible connections to make, all of them mostly pointless – there was nothing to confirm, no solid answer for a sleeping Koishi to give.

The satori stirred, and Marisa smiled. Emotions were more immediate than thoughts, now, and that wasn't a bad thing, for once.

She wrapped one arm around Koishi, and began to drift off as an odd sense of shared comfort overtook her.


	13. Chapter 13 - Journey Without a Step

Branches broken underfoot were painfully loud. Every step taken seemed to echo, every movement making itself known to the ear just as the eye could see.

It was terrifying, and as such, it was exhausting. Every time the girl's heart skipped a beat, every time she held her breath in sudden fear, it took from the energy she needed to walk a path that might never end.

Everything hurt, right now. Body, mind, and heart – none offered safety in the moment.

What was offered, however, was hope. Something else had to be out there – _something_ different from a life that would never accept her.

The girl stumbled into a clearing, and stopped for a moment to survey her surroundings.

It looked like she had come across a small shrine. It was run down, moss and small growths adorning crumbling architecture with a dark life of its own.

She couldn't tell what the shrine was for. Any inscription that might have once been present had been lost to time.

It was, in some sense, pretty, but it was not peaceful. The girl couldn't tell why, but the place seemed to inspire a bitter feeling – vacant as it was, it did not inspire calm, and that was alarming in and of itself.

"And what do you think you're doing here?"

The girl jumped, and turned around – how had she let somebody sneak up on her? Every step seemed so loud, here.

Her question answered itself as she turned around.

The being behind her was obviously not human – or at the very least, not conventionally so. Her upper form seemed human, although she was dressed oddly – like a witch of some sort. Her lower form, on the other hand, seemed to dissipate and fade away into one trailing mass.

"Well?"

The girl took one step back, searching for words and finding none. Terror seemed to choke away her thoughts before a single one could finish. This was a spirit, a ghost, a visage of the dead.

And, at that, a vengeful one.

"Hmph. A shame," said the spirit, lifting one arm in an odd gesture.

The girl watched with terror as lines slowly traced themselves through the air around the ghost's hand. This was magic, unlike anything she had seen. Where all she had ever known were little sparks and fragments drawn together, this spirit seemed to demonstrate a perfect control. Lines moved in right angles, their afterimages drawing strange glyphs, all concentrating on one focal point.

The girl could feel the magic. She could feel the pressure in the air change as tiny ley-lines passed her.

She stared at the ghost's hand, watching each line reach its destination: a strange, tiny sun of arcane forces.

It was amazing.

And then, suddenly, it faded. The ghost lowered her arm, raising an eyebrow.

"Are you not afraid?"

The girl almost jumped as she snapped to attention, her mind shifting away from the strange art of the ghost's work, and with that attention came the return of her gripping terror.

But that terror was lessened – its deepest hold undermined by the beauty of the ghost's strange magic.

At last, the spirit smiled. "I see."

The girl met the spirit's gaze, now entirely uncertain of her fate.

"What," said the spirit, still smirking, "is your name?"

The girl looked up, and swallowed.

"Marisa," she said at last. "Marisa Kirisame."

 _And then, Marisa Kirisame realized just what she was seeing. Where it had felt like she had been living a dream, it was as if she now – and only now – realized that she had been watching from afar the whole time._

 _It was strange, really. It was as if she had completely focused on one part of her vision so much that seeing through her own eyes again was like… like…_

 _Like waking up._

＊ ＊ ＊

Marisa pulled herself into consciousness with some force, although she didn't jump.

This was good, because Koishi hadn't moved from where she had fallen asleep.

"Was that you?" said Marisa, still shaking off sleep. Koishi was awake, although she wasn't moving.

"I think so," murmured Koishi, stirring in place. "I didn't mean to, but I was wondering about it when I slept."

"I guess dreams are easy for you to… suggest? I don't know what it is." Marisa sighed, shaking her head – she was still tired. "It was scary, really. Took a bit before I realized I was just dreaming exactly what I remembered."

"Sorry." Koishi hugged Marisa, and Marisa returned the gesture.

"Don't worry about it," said Marisa. "I'm alright, and you didn't spring it on me on purpose.

"And either way, it's over now." Marisa stretched her arms out, and Koishi loosened her grip, sliding off Marisa to land on her feet.

"Who was that?"

"Her name was Mima," said Marisa, blinking away fatigue as she stood. "She was a vengeful old spirit, but she was my first teacher."

"She cared about you, though," said Koishi, and Marisa knew that her feelings were now what Koishi was seeing.

"A lot, in time, yeah. She saw bits of herself in me, and I didn't have anywhere else to go." Marisa shrugged. "She was angry in ways that I just didn't have it in me to be, but she wasn't mean to me. Not that often, at least."

"You cared about her, too," said Koishi, like she was skeptically confirming seeing a simple object.

"She was scary sometimes." Marisa smiled, in spite of herself. "But she was the closest thing to family I had, and she really tried."

Koishi nodded, and Marisa was glad for her odd, empathetic powers here – what she was comfortable sharing, Koishi was comfortable hearing – no doubt of burden or fear clouded that.

"Can we keep seeing things like that?" Koishi asked, after some silence. She didn't meet Marisa's gaze.

"Oh, knock it off," said Marisa, grinning.

"Huh?" Koishi paused for a moment, and answered her own question. "Oh."

"Yeah, nothing wrong with asking me. If I really don't wanna, I'll say so. Or you'll see that – either way, ask away."

"I did…"

"Then don't feel bad about it, alright?" Marisa patted Koishi on the head, holding her grin, and the satori relaxed.

"Okay! Can we, though?"

"Yeah. Lemme know a bit ahead of time if you can, though." Marisa grabbed her hat, placing it on her head, feeling the immaterial change of self as she became slightly less personal and slightly more Marisa.

"Okay."

"So, whatcha wanna do today?" Marisa asked, grabbing her broomstick. If the odd flashbacks had taxed her sleep, it wasn't enough to hold her back.

"I dunno! Where haven't we been?" Koishi asked.

"You've been up the mountain, and your sis lives in the old hell… hmm," Marisa started through her own list of adventures. "You been to the Netherworld?"

"Nope!" Koishi said.

"Well, it's not the most exciting of places, but it's got a funny host and it's pretty. Nice way there, too."

"Let's do that, then!" Koishi hopped into the air, floating with an energy and disregard for physics that was characteristic of her odd joy.

It really was a beautiful, unique little thing.

"Alright, hang tight, then!" Marisa stopped, and considered Koishi.

"Ehhh… hang however you want!"

＊ ＊ ＊

Koishi had always liked the sky. To most, from what she could feel, it seemed as if the ability to fly had taken the magic from it.

But to her, it was still an odd, mystical place. While the clouds lacked the mystique of a truly unreachable place, there was still a surreal safety in them – a lack of any solid reality, where reality still held memories of pain and fear.

Perhaps that was a part of her odd love of aimless journeys, but then again, perhaps they held their own magic. It was hard to tell, and either way, was of little consequence.

"So waaaay up in the sky around here is where you can find the gate, although you can just fly over it if it's closed." Marisa looked around, surveying the clouds and empty sky. "Well, not here, but it's somewhere close enough."

Koishi had been surprised at what she felt from Marisa, at first – it was an odd excitement, almost like exploring something new and exciting, even though she'd been here before. The prospect of showing somebody else something new and exciting – somebody who really wanted to see – was a great joy to the witch, in and of itself.

Amidst these feelings, Koishi felt not just welcome, but wanted, hoped for – she brought a joy that was entirely her own, and Marisa was happy to share it.

It was odd and unfamiliar, but it was an oddity Koishi hoped would stay forever.

"I dunno if they'll be around, but there were some ghosts by the gate when I first came here." _The Prismrivers._

"The Prismrivers?" asked Koishi, repeating the thought she'd heard.

"They're poltergeists. Noisy ones, at that – they all play instruments, and they're kind of a pain." _Well, like everyone here. And me._

"Like you."

"I'm never a pain!" Marisa made a show of mock offense, but nothing of it echoed in her thoughts or feelings.

"Except when you are!" Koishi floated by Marisa, grinning.

Marisa laughed, and then stopped for a moment. "Hmm… well, let's try this way. It's a little harder to find this place without, well, all the spring disappearing in its general direction."

"All the spring?" Koishi didn't pay close attention to her third eye; regardless of what it could see, she preferred to listen to stories from the teller – there was a completeness and a personality in it that fragments of passing thought and feeling didn't quite have.

"It's a bit of a long story," said Marisa. "The short version is that the lady in charge of the Netherworld has a strange tree that never blooms, and she started stealing away our spring to try and get it to bloom."

"Did it?"

"Nope! I came and stopped it." _Well, okay, we._

"We?"

"Reimu and Sakuya came, too." Marisa smiled, still looking around. "I think we're close…"

"It's her!"

Koishi looked over to the new voice, and quickly matched it with the conversation – there were three figures in its direction. Each had a floating instrument – piano, violin, and trumpet – and that was enough to match them to Marisa's description of the Prismriver sisters.

"Eh? Why're you looking at me like that?" Marisa's thoughts quickly diverged into a storm of bemusement, and Koishi immediately knew that whatever suspicion the ghosts held, it was probably all on Marisa.

Koishi just shot Marisa a glance, and Marisa recognized both the look and Koishi's third eye. "Alright, alright, so I might have tried to steal their instruments once. It's not supposed to be possible, since they can just call them back, or have them dissipate or whatever." _Sooooo… I just had to try._

"Did it work?"

"Not quite!" said Marisa, grinning before making visible note of the glares the Prismrivers were giving her. "Anyways, this is Koishi! She's not trouble like I am, I promise."

The Prismrivers' suspicious glares moved to Koishi, and she felt some anxiety begin to creep up.

But, Marisa there and grinning as she was, she chose for the moment to ignore it, instead looking to the three ghosts.

"What're your names?" she asked, already watching fragments of thoughts and feeling.

"Lyrica!" said the pianist, and Koishi could see her temperament – she was the least concerned, and the fastest to speak.

"Merlin," said the blue-haired ghost, holding a trumpet, seeming a little calmer.

"Lunasa," said the girl with the violin, and Koishi could sense reservation there.

Koishi gravitated towards the pianist – she was unafraid and forthright – and floated through the air, stopping beside the ghost.

"Can I touch it?"

Koishi felt some apprehension at the question, although the pianist herself seemed least concerned.

"It's okay if I can't," Koishi added.

"Well, you can't damage it," said Lyrica, putting on a grin. She wasn't as confident as she was trying to look, but it was an answer. "Do you play at all?"

"Nope!" answered Koishi, and she reached out towards the piano.

She felt Lyrica watching, and from that, she could feel Lyrica's reflex, her expectations – she could feel them reflected in her own subconscious, too.

 _E, F#, G# on the right, C# on the left…_ Koishi began playing, and her hands, for these brief moments, were not her own. She played the song that lay in Lyrica's reflex, the song that the ghost had no doubt played thousands of times.

She could feel the sisters watching, silent in their shock – she could hear their thoughts, astounded and confused, as she played a song that was entirely their own.

She played the song with feelings that were not her own. There was loneliness and distant sorrow, but there was also an odd pride in it. This was, in a sense, who the Prismriver sisters were, their identity founded from that of a forgotten ghost.

When the song finally came to a close, all three of the Prismrivers were silent still. Koishi floated back from the piano, yielding it again to Lyrica, who spoke at last.

"That's… that's our song…"

"Mmhm!" Koishi smiled. "That's why I could play it."

"You… you don't play?" Lyrica asked again. Her thoughts didn't seem to finish, now, and her feelings struggled with one another.

"You play that song a lot, right?" Koishi asked.

"Y-yeah…"

"It's in your subconscious, and I can see it there. It's more like… it's more like you were playing it through me!" Koishi looked to Lyrica, smiling; in the brief moments of the song, she had understood the ghost in a way that nobody else could.

"You perform, right? I'll come to your next concert!"

"Yeah… yeah, we do." Lyrica's thoughts began to flow again, words becoming sentences, and sentences making various feelings and opinions. Her feelings themselves, on the other hand, still seemed stuck on shock. "I've… nobody else has ever played that before."

"It's an important song," said Koishi. "I can feel that much!"

"Yeah…" Lyrica looked at Koishi for a moment, and Koishi couldn't decipher the odd mix of thoughts and stirring feelings. "Thank you," she said, smiling in a way that seemed somehow unlike her.

"You're welcome! It's a really pretty song, coming from you." Koishi paused, and felt fear – alongside Marisa's quiet joy.

She took a moment, but held back the fear, and went on. "I don't know where you're from, or what the song means to you. But… I could feel it! And it was really pretty. I can stop by again!"

Lyrica was silent, but the older sister spoke. "Lyrica'd like that," she said, smiling. "She's probably got a lot of questions."

"No I—I—shut up!" Lyrica turned at her older sister, and Koishi laughed. She'd heard siblings were supposed to bicker, although she was always at ease with her own sister.

Lunasa was right, as far as Koishi could tell – Lyrica had cut herself off before contesting the point, and it seemed – if Koishi was reading correctly, which was never certain – that she hadn't wanted to lie.

It was strange, Koishi thought – reading and guessing was both tiring and exciting.

"Alright! You're usually around here, right?"

"If we're not performing, yes," said the ghost with the trumpet – Merlin. "Lyrica'll be happy to see you again," she added, grinning, and Koishi laughed as the siblings began to squabble again.

"Alright!" exclaimed Koishi, now grinning. "We're gonna head on now, but I'll try to stop by!"

She turned to Marisa, who grinned back at her.

"Let's go!"

＊ ＊ ＊

"Yeah, it's not really a great gate…"

Something about the non-sequitur of simply flying over the closed gates to the Netherworld – gates that notably required flight to reach in the first place – was amusing.

Koishi, on the other hand, looked a little distracted. "It's weird," she said.

"What is?"

"Things can be exciting and tiring."

Marisa smiled – she found Koishi's joy and sudden excitement infectious, and in all honesty, she loved the odd satori for it. There was such a genuine joy at all the strange, pretty things that life had, and Marisa was not ashamed to admit that she was drawn to such a positive reflection of her own values.

"I think that's just how it is," she said at last. "Nothing's quite as amazing without the little pieces of fear and effort – it all comes together. Even if it's not your experience, it takes effort to appreciate it."

"Well…" Koishi slowed down, and Marisa came to a halt beside her. "I dunno. I think it gets easier."

"Most things get easier, the more you get used to them." Marisa put one arm around Koishi. "It's still scary, yeah?"

"Yeah. People are surprised, or a little bit worried, or things like that – it's hard to ignore what that used to mean and go on ahead."

"You're doing it anyway, though!" Marisa looked over at Koishi, who still seemed a little lost in thought.

She was, among other things, still irresistibly adorable, and Marisa gave into impulse and pulled her into a hug.

Koishi didn't seem to mind.

"You seem really happy when I'm getting involved with things – when I'm having fun, I can feel it. It's a good thing," Koishi added, hugging Marisa back.

"I can't help it!" Marisa laughed. "Whatever happens, you appreciate it more than just about anyone I've ever seen. And, y'know, I love you, so it's always nice to see the people you love happy, right?"

Koishi hugged Marisa more tightly, and smiled. "Thank you!" And then, she broke free, floating into the air in a burst of her own, odd energy. "Let's keep going, then!"

Marisa grinned. "You got it!"

＊ ＊ ＊

Koishi looked on in fascination as danmaku and movement painted two strange pictures.

Marisa had predicted that her greeting to the netherworld might be, as she put it, "totally friendly", and for the fact that those words were a deliberate, blatant lie, she was right. The other girl, Youmu Konpaku, half human and half ghost (something about which Marisa seemed to be wondering in the midst of battle), had insisted that Marisa leave at first sight.

Marisa, naturally, agreed to those terms and then went right on ahead, and the picture of colors and movement the two now took part in was the predictable result.

It was strange for Koishi to see; she knew she'd dueled in such a manner herself, but it was buried deep in subconscious memory. While all spellcards, as far as she knew, were meant to reflect something about the user, all of hers were barely accessible by conscious memory.

"I keep telling her to be _more_ polite than the guests, but she seems to be stuck on something about 'intruders'…"

Koishi jumped, and then looked to her side to see who had spoken – somehow, they had remained entirely quiet to third eye and emotions alike.

And then… static? White noise? Whatever it was, it was unlike anything Koishi had ever seen.

"Ah, where are my manners?" said the pink-haired woman, smiling. "I am Yuyuko Saigyouji, princess of the Netherworld. Youmu there is my servant."

"Um…" Koishi tried to match anything she could see about the newcomer with anything she knew, and found herself lacking. The feelings she saw were flickers of unfamiliar memories, and the thoughts were circular and fading. Koishi had seen people, in the past, who had known enough to cloud their thoughts in loops and white noise – this wasn't that. This was…

"Yes?" Yuyuko produced one fan, seemingly from thin air, and opened it.

"You're…" Koishi shook her head. "I've never seen anything like you."

"My, my," said Yuyuko, her fan now obscuring her face. "Have you never seen a ghost before?"

"We met a few on the way here, you're just…" Koishi paused, and tried to put her thoughts together – to make a line of reasoning for someone _else_.

It was hard. "I'm a satori," said Koishi, gesturing to her third eye. "So I can read minds."

Without any hint of audible thought or emotion, Koishi found her anxiety oddly lacking. There was no disconcert, no lack of ease – and it was hard to imagine that somebody with the advantage on somebody who could read both thought and emotion could be ill at ease.

"I'm aware of the satori, yes." Yuyuko added nothing, but lowered her fan. Her smile was friendly – the word "disarming" came to mind.

"Well… I can read feelings, too."

"That is more unusual," said Yuyuko, still seeming quite relaxed. "Is there a problem?"

"You're… I can't see anything that makes sense from you." Koishi knew that this wasn't exactly the most polite thing to say – not because of her own knowledge, but because as she said it, she could feel the image of her sister cringing. Koishi loved her sister in many, many ways – she did not entirely understand the concept of "manners" that seemed to be a mental maze of sorts for Satori.

"I see," said Yuyuko, looking at the battle. "You're here with our ordinary magician, then?"

Koishi spotted a single, disconnected link – that title was Marisa's.

"Yeah!"

Yuyuko smiled, and then raised her fan. "And she makes sense to you?"

"Yeah! She—"

"Don't tell her any—HEY! WILLyoujustgivemeaminute—"

Koishi giggled, and then stopped. "Why doesn't she want me to tell you—"

"Because she's—gah!" Marisa narrowly dodged a passing projectile.

"That's a good question," said Yuyuko, fan still raised. "And when you say 'makes sense,' what do you mean?"

"Well—"

Marisa collided with a bullet in midair and came crashing down. Youmu landed, not far, and then froze in place as she realized her audience.

"It's fine, Youmu. She brought a guest!"

Youmu went from looking petrified to defeated in a moment, and then distinctly unhappy. Her thoughts were straightforward – the one time she fends off that witch, and Lady Yuyuko calls it all off anyways…

Marisa hopped to her feet, dusting herself off. "Sheesh, I can't fight two battles at once. That's not fair!"

"Two?" Koishi got the distinct feeling that Yuyuko was smiling behind her fan. "I only saw one."

"Hey! Blatantly lying is _my_ thing!" Marisa frowned, and Koishi realized that Yuyuko was not, in fact, very well known to the witch. And from what Marisa seemed to think, she wasn't very well known to just about anybody.

The words genius, evil, and weird floated about in Marisa's mind, and Koishi couldn't help but laugh.

Yuyuko lowered her fan, and gave one of her friendly, uninformative smiles. "Well! Shall I show the newcomer our humble abode?"

All strangeness aside, Koishi was still excited at the opportunity. The whole realm was… different. It was vast, but it seemed empty – its beauty was in space and silence.

And so, Koishi turned to Yuyuko and hopped into the air.

"Yes please!"

＊ ＊ ＊

Marisa wasn't entirely sure she had thought this through.

Alright, no, that was definitely a lie. She was sure she hadn't thought this through, and she was sure that she had thought this exact thought before.

Koishi was engaged with Yuyuko on an interested, factual level – nothing about Yuyuko as a person, and nothing seemingly read from thin air. It was all questions and answers, and given how odd this felt to Marisa, she suspected that somehow, the princess of the Netherworld was incomprehensible even to the empathetic mind-reader.

Worse yet, Yuyuko Saigyouji was happily playing the simple, welcoming host, and Koishi was the only one who this didn't disturb. Koishi being who she was, her obliviousness made some sense, but there was no way she couldn't sense the quiet terror of the other two people present.

Koishi giggled.

 _Alright, fine._ Marisa sighed, and Yuyuko smiled.

"Well, what else did you want to see here?"

Koishi hopped into the air. "Marisa was thinking about a weird tree!"

"Ah," said Yuyuko, smiling. "That would be the Saigyou Ayakashi."

Marisa, on the other hand, was shocked. Yuyuko had – for the shortest instant – hesitated when Koishi had asked about the tree, and Yuyuko Saigyouji was, when it came to obscuring any cues, generally flawless.

That? Was interesting. Marisa chose, against her usual nature, not to point it out – there was no hope of getting Yuyuko to acknowledge it in any way, no matter what one tried. To debate her in rhetoric was to throw a rock into a fight full of those outside, modern firearms, and even Marisa Kirisame wasn't quite that crazy.

"Did you want to see it?" Yuyuko asked, her otherwise flawless composure once again in form.

"Yeah! Marisa thinks there's nothing like it," said Koishi, hopping into the air with excitement.

"Well," Yuyuko gave a thin smile, which, coming from her, betrayed nothing. "That's certainly true."

"I'll lead the way. Youmu?" Yuyuko's smile became more welcoming, if still all but unreadable.

"Yes?" the half-ghost snapped to attention with a jump, and from anyone less… well, transparent, Marisa would have thought it was a show.

"Come, attend our guests with me."

＊ ＊ ＊

"Lady Yuyuko," said Youmu, looking – and feeling – altogether quite uncomfortable as the four traversed the odd, empty plains of the Netherworld.

"What is it, Youmu?"

"Are we really…" She trailed off, looking into the distance. "I mean, the Saigyou Ayakashi is…"

Yuyuko smiled, and Koishi felt a hint of… recognition?

"It is an experience, once, to dine on poison you will survive. Besides," Yuyuko spread a fan seemingly produced from nowhere. "Even the greatest of hunters may choke on a simple meal."

Youmu looked – and felt, and was – confused, but did not question her master.

Marisa was curious – although with the speed of her thoughts, it was hard to tell exactly what about.

Koishi, being herself, decided to figure out the easy way.

"Whatcha curious about?" she said, floating into the air beside the witch.

"Oh," said Marisa, smiling. "It's just a weird thing. Biggest tree you'll ever see, and it's always dead, now. No matter how much spring you steal," she added, glancing at Yuyuko.

"Does stealing theft make you the master, or the apprentice?" Yuyuko tilted her head. "Well, I suppose there are nicer things to repossess."

"Did it blossom, when you stole the spring?" Koishi asked, looking over to Yuyuko.

"Almost." The princess of the Netherworld wore a thin smile, now, and it was strange, how unreadable she was. If she had secrets, she needed never fear anyone learning of them.

"No," the ghost added, her smile now less mysterious. "I do not. A secret kept will spoil eventually, though, even if a good truth is best when aged well."

Koishi didn't know what to make of the statement; she didn't mind.

"And now…" Yuyuko looked up, and in the distance, Koishi could see the sight that they had been travelling to see.

The Saigyou Ayakashi.

In size and posture, it was surely unrivalled. Its branches spanned a strange, endless network across an empty sky, and it stood so tall that perception seemed to warp with the sheer distance of its size.

And indeed, it was empty. No petals adorned its countless branches, no visible life habited its endless span.

But to call it dead…

Koishi looked down, to the base of the tree, and… felt.

They were not alone.

"It's not…" she murmured, staring at the tree.

"Eh?" Marisa looked over, now curious.

"It's not dead." Koishi took a step forward. She could feel Yuyuko's smile – one of recognition, of realization.

"It doesn't have a single petal, and it didn't grow when it was given all our spring. How's it alive?"

Koishi could barely hear the feeling of Marisa's question. The tree was… almost deafening.

"It's not dead," she said again, raising a hand. "It's… sleeping."

"Sleeping?" Marisa took a step forward, following her.

"It's alive…" Koishi took one more step forward. The world seemed almost unreal. "It's… dreaming…"

The world seemed to slow down, and Koishi stated the only thought that overtook her, now.

"I'm… tired."

And then, the world blurred.

＊ ＊ ＊

Marisa's instincts were not wrong. Her growing sense of unease had kept her on edge, and she caught Koishi before she fell, pulling out the Hakkero in one swift movement.

She stepped back as she did, pointing it at both Yuyuko and Youmu, her demeanor now without inanity or humor. She was angry, although she held it in check – to harm the person she meant to protect out of anger was not a mistake she cared to make.

Youmu had, in an instant, drawn blade, and they now remained at a standstill. Yuyuko had not – visibly – reacted yet.

"Youmu," the ghost said, raising one hand. "Put your sword away."

"But—"

"Youmu." Yuyuko's tone was unusually serious, and her servant obeyed, looking altogether quite uncomfortable.

"What happened to her?" Marisa's voice was quiet, her anger kept very thinly in check.

"We mean you no harm, Marisa Kirisame. She will be fine."

" _What. Happened?_ " Marisa, ever experimental, could not be comfortable until she had data to work with, and right now, she was entirely in the dark.

"The tree was sealed, long, long ago. It was an evil creature, then, and it took the souls it claimed in sleep."

"And she—"

"It cannot, now. Calm yourself, Kirisame. She is in no danger."

Marisa paused, and looked at the situation. Youmu was uncomfortable – there was still a weapon pointed at her master, after all – but Yuyuko was without her obscuring veil of strange humor and metaphor, now.

With a pointed sigh, Marisa lowered her aim. "Fine. Explain."

"A great poet, long ago, knew his death was fated soon, and he chose one tree to die beneath, as he had once wrote of."

"I've read up on the legends," said Marisa. If her anger was now fully restrained, her patience was still thin. "What happened to Koishi?"

"The tree dreams in its sealed sleep as it did in life," said Yuyuko, meeting Marisa's gaze. "Of eternal rest."

"And?"

"It is asleep, now, and its power is sealed away. It can not harm her – she will wake. She saw its dream, and that is all that happened."

"…fine." Marisa put her Hakkero away, frowning, and picked up Koishi's unconscious form.

"You may stay with us, for the night. I believe the Saigyou Ayakashi's dream will stay with her for some time after she wakes. It cannot touch her, but she nonetheless bore witness to it."

Marisa was not entirely at ease with the prospect of staying at Yuyuko's place.

But…

It was only intuition that told her that, this once, it was safe. With regards to the tree, Yuyuko had given the courtesy of truth, and lowered her defenses first.

"Alright. Alright…" Marisa let out a long sigh, and regained a little of her demeanor. "Fine. We'll stay the night." And then, she gritted her teeth as one feeling gave into another. "Thanks."

Yuyuko actually raised an eyebrow. "Gratitude from the thief of thieves? My, my."

"Just this once," Marisa said, raising one hand in defense. "For Koishi."

"Ah, young love!" Yuyuko's expression once again became a mask of incomprehensible humor and strange inanity. "Very well, let us head back."

＊ ＊ ＊

Yuyuko had agreed to leave Marisa with Koishi for the night. The guest room was, against all reason or odds, a mess that seemed entirely familiar to Marisa.

The princess of the Netherworld gave Marisa headaches, sometimes. There were very, very few others who could do so in such a way.

She didn't, on the other hand, decline such a comfort, now.

She also knew that she was being played – that while she was an unrepentant thief, she wouldn't steal while owing some moral debt. She was an honorable, unscrupulous, lying thief – she had standards. She knew it. She knew Yuyuko knew she knew it, and she knew that Yuyuko was on top of every recursive level of knowledge thereafter.

Some things, on the other hand, were somehow more important.

Marisa's thoughts broke as Koishi stirred, rolling over in bed. She opened her eyes a little, and spoke quietly.

"Marisa?"

"I'm here," the witch replied. "You okay?"

"I'm still tired," murmured Koishi. "Don't have to talk much, right?"

"Ahhh," Marisa said, wandering over. In one movement, she picked up Koishi, and then crawled into bed, repositioning herself under the Satori. "Not at all."

"Okay." Koishi said nothing, but smiled as she curled up against Marisa.

"Just glad to have you here," said the witch, smiling as well.

Silence fell, and Koishi was quick to sleep again. Marisa, now altogether quite at ease, followed suit, still smiling.


	14. Chapter 14 - Slow to Wake, Quick to Rise

Let me die in spring, under the blossoming trees…

 _Those were its first words. To the ancient tree, life began in death._

 _It had known he was tired. And it had known that the man who now slept would never wake again._

 _And so, it had awakened; a dream of life within a dream of death, a strange and ephemeral boundary._

 _Born from a poet's end, alive in death forever._

 _ **Saigyou Ayakashi**_ **.**

 _In life, in true, waking, ensouled life, its blossoms would grow. It would become like nothing before, and nothing after._

 _There was an irony – in life and death, in a beauty appreciated only as the end of a life – and the tree was unaware._

 _But if not the tree that had been awakened, if not the tree that now slept and dreamed, then who could see the irony, the strange dichotomy?_

 _She felt a tugging sensation._

 _She – no, Marisa Kirisame. Marisa's awareness had expanded, now, to include herself._

 _The tree was still there, still in its first blossoms. Marisa Kirisame was not yet awake._

" _It's not like us," said Koishi, still holding the witch's sleeve. "It's alive, though…"_

" _It knows sleep and death," said Marisa, staring at the tree's blossoms. She had only ever seen the tree's empty branches, seen it in its eternal, deadened sleep – even she could appreciate it now._

 _Beauty had never been her enthusiasm, but she understood nonetheless that the Saigyou Ayakashi was beautiful, now._

" _That's all…" said Koishi, staring. "It's not… evil."_

" _No." Marisa took a step forward, and tried to take another._

 _She couldn't._

" _We're going to wake up soon," said Koishi, her expression unreadable._

" _How do you know?"_

"Saigyou Ayakashi," _said the satori. "This is its dream."_

" _It's… not dead?"_

" _No."_

＊ ＊ ＊

"But it's never going to wake up."

Marisa rolled over to face Koishi, who lay in bed staring at the ceiling. She wasn't sure how the process of waking could be so… unnoticeable, as if the waking world had simply snuck into perception.

Koishi sat up, and the lack of energy in her movements was worrying.

"I'm fine," said the satori, giving Marisa a faint smile. "I want to see it again."

"The dream?" said Marisa, worrying about the answer she sensed.

"The tree."

A short silence fell, but Koishi's resolve was, in the way only hers could be, tangible.

"I'll be okay. I'm not sleepy, now."

Marisa didn't question her. The image of a falling Koishi was still painted in her mind, but she didn't intend to push for caution. Not out of fear, not against the eternal wonder that was Koishi's odd journeying.

"Let's go, then," said the witch, putting on a grin.

"Right now?" said Koishi, a more enthusiastic smile now creeping onto her face.

"Right now."

＊ ＊ ＊

Marisa watched as Koishi took one step towards the tree, staring intensely at it.

"It really is asleep…" Koishi shook her head. "It's dreaming."

"What _is_ it?" Marisa asked – she knew the stories, but what it was to Koishi was something else entirely.

"Life and death… Life from death. _Saigyo Hoshi_."

"The poet?"

"He chose to die beneath this tree." Koishi walked forward, still looking at the empty branches of the Saigyou Ayakashi.

"…so it… really IS a Youkai tree, then?"

"Yes," said a third voice. Marisa and Koishi turned to face Yuyuko Saigyouji. "But still just a tree, in its own way."

Marisa chose, for once, to remain silent. Koishi did not speak.

"It acted only naturally, to extend its own life." Yuyuko's expression was readable now, if distant. Whatever Yuyuko Saigyouji chose to be normally, it was not what she was now. "It continued on the only path it had ever known."

"It was afraid of you," said Koishi, putting one hand up to the tree's deadened bark.

"It was, yes," said Yuyuko, raising one palm.

Lines of color traced themselves through the air, following an unseen will, and together birthed a butterfly of light and color.

"The butterflies brought death with them, certain and silent. Nothing would be left for the tree to take." The butterfly's wings fluttered, and it slowly took to the air.

"I can see your story," said Koishi, her gaze finally straying from the strange tree. "But…" she trailed off.

"Was I meant to bring death?" Yuyuko asked, and her expression did not seem to mirror the uncertainty in Koishi's. "Perhaps I could have starved the tree, prevented the endless sleep it brought to so many by granting such to those who wandered near - and perhaps that is why I was granted these powers."

And then, Yuyuko smiled. From that, Marisa could tell nothing. "And perhaps, in the end, I simply failed in my duty."

She continued. "Not everything in life happens for a reason. Not every counterpart is a perfect match, and not every fragment has a purpose."

Silence fell, for some time.

"I never thought I'd hear that from you," Marisa said at last.

Yuyuko's smile remained. "Our existence would be a dreadfully boring game if nothing remained unpredictable, would it not?"

Koishi, at last, turned from the tree, facing Yuyuko. "You're… far away, now," she said, and Marisa knew that the ghost was now without mask. "Even though it's you beneath that tree."

"The memories of the living are not my own." Yuyuko said, and then she surprised them both, reaching one hand out to pat Koishi on the head. "And so, you needn't worry; I harbor no great sorrow. Although I have learned the story of Saigyo's daughter in the time since that spring, I am her ghost, not her soul."

Yuyuko produced a fan, and opened it – it was not the mask that it usually was. "The daughter's memories – the memories of the living – are not mine. I have learned her secrets – but they are hers nonetheless – not my own."

The ghost raised one hand, and then one finger, and the single butterfly landed on it. Its wings fluttered slowly, its life still traced in light.

"This is but a dream of what they once were," Yuyuko said, her smile still odd and distant. "A controllable shadow of the force that drove the daughter to take her own life. My name is my own…

"Yuyuko Saigyouji. Princess of the Netherworld, keeper of spirits. That, for now, is all."

Koishi's concern was strange, but focused. Marisa could sense her confusion, but also her understanding – the satori did not understand Yuyuko, but she understood sorrow and distance. She was worried, with one unknown and one known that had so painfully defined her past.

"I am well, Koishi Komeiji," Yuyuko said, her smile shifting from distant to genuine. It was a fitting expression, against all odds. "You have seen the tree for what it is, as nobody has before, and for that, I thank you."

"It was dreaming…"

"Yes. Life, death, sleep – a story told only in endings. But you dreamed what even I could not, and it is… a refreshing change."

Koishi took one step forward, and then another, still looking worried. Yuyuko's thoughts and feelings were not masked now, Marisa was guessing, but they were most likely incomprehensible nonetheless.

Koishi reached out and pulled Yuyuko into a hug. It was only the feelings Marisa could sense that kept her from being entirely dumbfounded.

But Yuyuko accepted it, and even returned the gesture. And then, as if she simply meant to surprise, she looked to Marisa.

"She is a kind one, is she not?" Yuyuko's smile was not the one Marisa was used to seeing.

But in spite of herself, Marisa smiled, and replied in kind. "Yeah," she said, "she really is."

There was a quiet, genuine joy in the silence that followed.

"Ah," said Yuyuko at least, assuming a less telling smile. "You have seen me for what I am, now, haven't you? I suppose I should be worried."

Marisa thought on this a moment, and then grinned. "Nah," she replied, shrugging. "I didn't steal it for myself. Wouldn't be fair, y'know?"

"Can't let me do all the work!" Said Koishi, floating into the air.

"Exactly! Besides, you're tricky," said Marisa. "It'd take me forever to figure out how to use that against you. Well, not if I wanted it to work…" She shrugged. "You're safe, either way."

"And so speaks the prodigal thief," Yuyuko declared, her expression once again a smiling mask. "Very well, very well. I won't detain you any longer, then."

Marisa chuckled. "You want us out that badly, huh?"

Koishi, on the other hand, had focused again – and Marisa could feel it.

"Yuyuko?" she asked, her expression more earnest than anyone else's could be.

"Yes?"

"…Thank you." Koishi's focus gave way to a distant smile.

Yuyuko raised one eyebrow, still smiling. "You are thanking me, now?"

"Yeah." Koishi looked up. "For letting us see everything."

"It has always been there to see," said Yuyuko. "You are simply the first to have an eye for it… so to speak."

The satori tilted her head. "It wasn't my dream, though…"

Yuyuko chuckled. "My, you _are_ an interesting guest, Koishi Komeiji."

"You have a funny way of thinking of "interesting"," Koishi replied, now smiling. "It's really cool!"

Yuyuko smiled, although she did not respond to the odd observation. "You are welcome to return here, if you ever wish to. And yes," she added, giving Marisa a glance, "you can bring her, if it makes you more comfortable."

"Yay!" Koishi hopped into the air, and then stayed floating, giggling as she did so.

"Oh, and I must say," Yuyuko raised her fan, but her eyes betrayed her smile. "The two of you _do_ make a cute couple."

＊ ＊ ＊

"…But why is it worrying coming from her?" Koishi's gaze was piercing – innocent curiosity gave it an odd intensity.

"She's Yuyuko," said Marisa, sighing.

"And she's nice! It's a strange nice, but she really is!"

"To you!"

"And to you!" Koishi tilted her head.

 _Yeah, too nice._ Marisa narrowed her eyes.

"What's that mean? CAN you be too nice?"

 _For your own good, but that's not what I—_

"What DO you mean?"

Marisa sighed. Hiding things from Koishi was pointless, and not something she wanted to do anyways. And that… meant some sacrifices had to be made.

Like dignity.

"She's got enough of a sense of humor to embarrass me if it'd be funny, and she's smart enough she actually has a good shot at setting it up. And I don't know what's going through her head, ever. There, that it?"

"You're blushing inside!" Koishi giggled.

"Wh—what's that even mean?"

"I dunno, but I like it!" Marisa became oddly aware of a weight on her back – Koishi was hugging her, and this fact had simply crept into awareness.

Marisa sighed, gave in to some small amount of embarrassment, and smiled. "Jeez, I dunno how I keep you around."

"Eh?"

"You're too cute. It's bad for my image!"

"But you like it!"

"That only makes it worse!" Marisa waved a hand in mock dismissal. "I'm supposed to be out causing trouble, not going soft with you!"

"Are you not causing trouble when you go out with me? I thought I helped!"

"You do! It's just not the same, having a giant soft spot." Marisa grinned and shrugged, patting Koishi on the head. "It's worth it, though."

Koishi jumped, and then hugged Marisa, holding on for a while.

"That was fun," said the satori, finally letting go. "I'm tired, though…"

"I don't blame ya, really," said Marisa. "It's kind of a long trip back from the Netherworld, and you had a lot of stuff to take in."

"She's… deep," said Koishi, and a passing mental image told Marisa that Koishi was talking about the Netherworld's mistress.

"And what's that mean?" Marisa found herself smiling – beyond Koishi, there wasn't a particular reason. That was more than alright, though.

"When I first met her, I couldn't really see anything," said Koishi, looking down at her third eye. "But later, when she came out by the tree, I could, and I think she let me."

"Well, if anyone _could_ …" Marisa shook her head. "How's that mean she's deep, though? Having a way to hide doesn't really mean you have that much to hide."

 _A lot of people are just afraid._

"She felt strange, by the tree. She was far away, but she was there, and I could see her. I don't know where she came from… but it's been hard, I'm sure."

Marisa could feel Koishi, and in that, she could understand.

"You feel like that sometimes, huh?" Marisa said, looking at Koishi.

"Not like she does. For her, it's all sad, but it's all long, long ago. It's a sad story, how she came to be, what she learned about her history, but it's just… it's a far away feeling, not her heart.

"Sometimes I feel kind of like that, yeah. I know all the things that hurt me were a long time ago, but they don't feel like it. And… they still hurt. Yuyuko… she's a little numb. A little cold, and she's okay with that. I'm… I try to be far away, sometimes, because I'm moving forwards, right?'

Marisa lowered her gaze, and then took a step forwards. "Come here, you," she said, sweeping Koishi into her arms.

Koishi hugged her in return, and went on. "Sometimes, I think of me now and me then like different people, right? Because I'm not going to be afraid now, and what happened was a long time ago, even if my feelings don't understand that. But…"

She paused as Marisa gave her a playful tap on the head.

"Don't be silly—well, okay. Be silly, but not like this!" The witch grinned. "You're not being brave if you aren't afraid of anything!"

Koishi gave a small smile. "It's not fun to be afraid."

"No, not at all. It _sucks_ , and how much I hate it is a lot of what keeps me going, y'know?"

"I wanna be like you." Said Koishi, still holding on.

Marisa almost protested, but the words _in this way_ echoed through her head, and she stopped herself. "Don't rush it so much, you."

"Eh?"

"It's not just 'you now' and 'you then'. Takes time to change, really. You can't do it all at once – even if you snap and try really hard, there's just a lotta things it takes time to get over."

"Yuyuko's been around for a long time, hasn't she?" Koishi finally let go, looking a little happier.

"Longer than anyone but Yukari really knows, yeah."

Koishi stretched, and then let out a yawn. "I'm tired," she said. "Today's heavy."

"Yeah, I getcha." Marisa stretched her arms for a moment. "Let's get you inside."

"Can I stay with you tonight?" Koishi asked – at this point, it was an odd formality, from her.

"Of course."

＊ ＊ ＊

Marisa found her thoughts wandering, as they so often did.

She'd taken a book to read – an old magical encyclopedia of sorts, appropriated from the Scarlet Devil Mansion's library – but she hadn't gotten through too many pages. Something about the quiet rhythm of Koishi's rest made it hard to keep alert.

That, and the fact Koishi's preferred resting place was on top of Marisa.

She didn't mind, of course. Koishi was small and warm, and when she slept here, she seemed to do so with some safety and happiness, and that alone was quite meaningful to the witch.

To Marisa, that odd joy sounded a lot like love.

Well, she was a while past hoping to deny it, at any rate.

Softly, she ran one hand through the sleeping satori's hair, and then began to drift off, as well.


	15. Chapter 15 - Ripples in the Air

Marisa woke up to a new and immediate dilemma.

Two things were happening, now. One – Koishi sleeping on top of her – had been present since last night. Two – a rather impatient knocking at her door (seriously, who bothered to knock on HER door?) – was rather new.

Combined, the two made for a slightly awkward situation. Koishi, for all she seemed not to notice, was still remarkably sensitive about Marisa's movements.

"That's not sis…" said the satori, slowly rolling off of Marisa.

Well, that solved that. Marisa took towards the door, not yet pausing to consider the implications of what Koishi said. Well, alright, not taking the extra time to think about what that meant she somehow knew.

Marisa donned her hat – matters of style were _important_ – and opened the door.

Of the people who might be knocking (again, who would knock on _Marisa's_ door, anyway?), the people who were now there were… not high on the list of expected visitors.

"Hi!" Marisa said, ignoring all surprise. Remilia glared at her from beneath her parasol, and Patchouli carried a resigned expression. Sakuya, oddly, was nowhere to be seen.

"What can I do for ya?" the witch went on, pretending this was entirely normal.

Patchouli looked past Marisa. "I'm sure you won't mind if I make your house a little more… hospitable?"

"I don't get guests often—HEY!" Marisa looked over her shoulder as Patchouli cast a spell. "I'm gonna have to trap that again!"

"Forgive me if I don't feel _too_ guilty," said Patchouli, rolling her eyes, "for removing your traps from _my books._ "

There was a brief silence. Inwardly, all chaos aside, Marisa was curious what Remilia Scarlet could want at her house that couldn't be done at her much, much nicer mansion.

"Well, come in, I guess," said Marisa, making a show of exasperation at the newly found _safety_ of her house.

Inside, Patchouli found a seat, and Remilia chose to remain standing – Koishi was nowhere to be seen, although Marisa couldn't tell how much concern that warranted.

"So, uh…" Marisa looked at Remilia, not finding any particular good answer.

" _What,_ " said the vampire, still glaring, "did you do to Sakuya?"

"…What?" Well, that would explain why Marisa hadn't been invited to the mansion.

"What did you do to her?" Remilia demanded again, this time pointing at Marisa. Clearly, this was bothering her enough that she didn't much feel like acting royal.

"I didn't do anything!"

"You always cause trouble in the mansion! You come in uninvited and—"

"I wasn't even uninvited! I didn't steal _anything_ last time!" Marisa raised her hands, and Patchouli sighed.

" _You_ didn't do anything to her," she said, giving Marisa a look that seemed to say she had tried to explain to no avail.

"What's even wrong with her?" Marisa asked, still a bit caught up in the situation. "She seemed fine when I last saw her—"

"Of course _you_ wouldn't notice anything!" Remilia closed in, and Marisa just raised an eyebrow. Confusion was a lot stronger than any sense of intimidation, for her.

"Then—" Marisa was immediately cut off.

"She's served me for longer than you've been alive, you rat!" Yep. She was being a brat, now. "And she's been acting different! Even if it's just a second or two, she's _never_ off."

Marisa scoffed, and Remilia looked about ready to start shooting. "You're complaining about a couple of seconds?"

"It's not the seconds. _You_ wouldn't understand. She's been with me for longer than you could even comprehend, and I can _tell_ when something's wrong!"

"Remi," Patchouli said, still looking altogether quite resigned. "She doesn't know. It wasn't her."

"Nobody _else_ has come by," said Remilia, holding herself back a little with the librarian. "Who else could it be?"

Marisa didn't quite have time to think of the situation as a dilemma. As soon as the question was asked, Marisa could feel a guilt and an anxiety that, as far as she could tell, really weren't hers. And, unusually, from what she could see, it seemed that everyone else could feel it.

"It wasn't Marisa," said Koishi, now standing in front of the witch.

Marisa almost said something, but her respect was greater than her worry. It always was. Between anxiety and guilt, Koishi had set herself on honesty, even though this situation was obviously much more heated than any had been since… well, since the mansion.

Marisa could protect her – she was always the suspicious one – but Koishi didn't want that.

"And I suppose _you_ know who it was, then?" said Remilia, frowning.

"It's my fault," Koishi said, without hesitation. "I… made her angry. I didn't mean to, but I did."

" _You_ did?" Remilia raised an eyebrow, and glanced at Marisa.

"It wasn't her," said Koishi, still holding her ground. Remilia, on the other hand, seemed to hold herself back again – in a moment, Marisa had gone from incredulous to quite serious.

"Well, then," said Remilia, still sounding distinctly displeased. "What did you do to my maid?"

ᅟ

Koishi was… surprised. This wasn't as scary as it should have been, not from what she could see, not from what surrounded her.

Remilia seemed angry, but it was… Koishi knew what she was feeling, what it was she could see, and it was worry. The vampire didn't want to be seen as caring – there was another branch of concern, although it wasn't very detailed – If Koishi was right, that meant she hadn't thought about it. That was a guess, though.

It was a bit too much information at once to be comfortable, but still – it was worry that moved Remilia, and Patchouli – the magician – understood what Koishi was. Nothing scary was coming from her.

Marisa, like before, was holding her concern back, and Koishi appreciated that. Although she could turn to Marisa, the witch would let her face her fears, no matter how much it bothered her to stand back.

"Well?" said Remilia, breaking through Koishi's thoughts.

"When we were at the mansion, earlier, I… I read her mind, and it was… really interesting. It was different from how people usually think, because time's different to her, and…"

"And?" Remilia was impatient, but she was more curious and concerned than any manner of furious.

"Well, I talked about it out loud, and she really didn't like it."

And then, understanding was what Koishi both felt and saw.

 _What an unfortunate little girl,_ came the thought, and while it bore some frustration, it was without malice.

"No," said Remilia, "she wouldn't like that, I'll admit."

Koishi looked to Remilia. "I'm sorry. I… I'm not used to seeing it all again. I'm… my eye's been closed for a long time."

"See to it that it doesn't happen again," said Remilia, but it wasn't harsh, so much as posturing. "I will abide the innocence of your intent once."

Koishi stood, and she almost wanted to cry. Forgiveness? Whatever it was, it was strange. "Thank you," she said, finally slumping a little. She had been very tense, although she hadn't realized it.

"Think nothing of it. Besides," Remilia waved a hand. "Stepping on a rat is one thing, but mortals in love are so irritatingly tenacious." She had a faint smile, and Marisa sighed.

"Yeah, yeah, I know, all of Gensokyo knows and somebody probably dropped the news outside the border, too. Laugh it up."

"Well, I suppose that is an… acceptable resolution to the matter," said Remilia. "And this house is _quite_ unwelcoming. Patchy?"

Patchouli nodded, standing up.

"Let's go."

Remilia turned to leave, her librarian in tow, but Koishi spoke once again. "Wait!"

"Hmm?"

"Um… will she – will Sakuya be okay? She seemed better the time after, but I don't know her…"

Remilia smiled. "Innocence of intent, indeed… yes, little satori, she will be fine. You have thrown her off, but you have done no lasting harm."

"Alright," said Koishi. "Thank you."

And with that, the unexpected guests were off.

＊ ＊ ＊

"Jeez, who the hell comes knocking on _my_ door at that time in the morning? She's supposed to be nocturnal, anyways!" Marisa was making a small show of the inconvenience, although in truth, she was just glad it had ended without disaster.

"I'm… glad they came," said Koishi, leaning back on the witch. "I was scared," she added, and a faint shade of that fear could be felt, as if to verify her words. "But they weren't… angry. Remilia was worried."

"Well, can't say I expected it," said Marisa, stretching. "You were really brave!"

"Brave?" Koishi paused, and Marisa felt some faint sensation of realization. It was something the satori hadn't thought about.

"Well, you were afraid, and you kept me out of it and faced it yourself, right?"

Koishi drifted into the air as she paused for thought again. "I guess so… I dunno! I didn't really think about it."

"Then you really _are_ learning from me," replied Marisa, grinning.

And then yawning.

Oh, it was… barely dawning out. Marisa's internal sense of time had told her it was morning, and that it was too early, but she hadn't really taken the time to check the extent of either parameter.

Well, that would explain why Remilia had picked that time to drop by. Or why she'd been up in the morning.

"Well, I'm still sleepy," Marisa said, stretching. "Still a little too early for me…"

Koishi's presence became apparent hanging from Marisa's shoulder – with physics that were questionable at best.

Marisa smiled. "I'm gonna head back to sleep for a bit."

"I'm tired too!" said Koishi with an excitement that utterly failed to match the words she spoke. "I dunno if it's because of you, or because fear's hard, though…"

Marisa took the time to hang her hat on the corner of an oddly tilted bookshelf, and then sat down at the edge of her bed. "Well, d'you want anything before I sleep?" she asked Koishi.

"Aww," said Koishi, tilting her head.

"Wha?" Marisa said, not quite sure why Koishi seemed to radiate a quiet comfort.

"You asked that for me, not 'cause you were thinking about it!" Koishi smiled, and kicked her feet through the air, sitting on nothing.

Oh. Affection. "Yeah, that's true," Marisa said, now lying down. "Do ya, though?"

"Yeah!" said Koishi, laying back in mid air, and then drifting onto Marisa as if she was a leaf.

Marisa couldn't help but chuckle. "Well, what is it?"

And then, a faint vibe of nervosity, just for a moment. "I want to see you again!" said Koishi. "I mean… you… before? Where you came from!"

Oh. Her past. Marisa shrugged, but smiled. "Yeah, go ahead – I dunno how you find it, but go ahead."

"Alright." Koishi tilted her head. "You can sleep, though."

"Yeah, I remember the last time." Marisa let out a yawn, and laid back in bed.

She felt Koishi settle on top of her, and not long after, she drifted off.

＊ ＊ ＊

"What… was that?"

The blonde girl took a step back. She felt… strange, now – she had done as the mysterious spirit had told her, and after some minutes of instruction and attempts, she had been nearly blinded by a sudden beam of bright, blue light.

"That was entirely within you," said the spirit, her expression entirely without emotion.

"Did you help…?"

"I instructed you in the simplest of manners."

"I feel strange…" Marisa raised her hands, staring at them. She was… still in some degree of shock. Her body still felt the faint pulse of an odd buzz, her hands still a little numb, her sight still somewhat blind.

Whatever that had been, it was her doing.

"Now, again."

"A…already?"

"No matter how you feel, it was a tiny pulse. You have far more within you; you will not bring harm to yourself if you recall my instructions correctly."

"…but…"

"What you did there was a flash before your eyes. This time, you will understand what you are attempting. This time, you may feel it for what it _is._ "

The girl raised her hands again, thinking back on her instructions, remembering the parts that were the most difficult. _Be still at first; even breaths, remember your surroundings without watching them. Listen to your own silence…_

It wasn't difficult. Taking one step forward, thrusting her hands out, Marisa shot forth another beam of bright, blue, light. And this time, she watched it, stemming her physical fright at the strange tremors that seemed to travel through her body.

The sensation was warm. No natural light was like this one, and Marisa could feel her energy drain, a little, feel the nature of the air around her change.

It was, without a doubt, magic. And it… was hers. She had been so very curious for so long – her parents had despised that – had it always been this close? Had the magic she had read about and dreamed of always been, almost literally, at her fingertips?

The girl felt as if she was dreaming.

 _She was always pretty cold._

"Interesting." The girl turned to face the spirit, who now wrote a faint smirk.

"Did I…" again, Marisa lost her words.

"And you are no magician, hm?"

"…no. I… wanted to learn about it – about magic – but my parents got really, really angry. I don't know anything." The girl swallowed. The spirit was still… she still seemed dangerous. Marisa didn't know a thing about her. "They said magic was… for demons, for _Youkai_ and for—"

"Enough." The spirit said. "They were wrong. Utterly." And then, the spirit smiled.

Marisa shivered. It was not a kind smile.

"Marisa Kirisame," she said, her words now a declaration, "you may leave this place alive. If you stay, however…"

The spirit paused, and then spoke again, more quietly. "I will show you the way. I will teach you what I know."

The girl paused, and thought. She had fled home with… nothing. She had nowhere to go, that she knew of.

But to her, that didn't matter. Nowhere was better than where she had been.

She recalled the strange lines in the air that the spirit had commanded, recalled the unearthly light she had called forth, herself.

And she remembered the ancient book of magic she'd found, that had been taken from her. The odd pictures, the words of power not unlimited, but _unknown_. A journey without an end.

Marisa inhaled, and met the ghost's gaze unflinchingly. She could feel… tears? Tears in her eyes.

"I'll stay," she said, fear all but forgotten. "I want to learn. I want to see. I _will_."

The ghost watched her in silence for a few seconds. "You are a strange little human, Marisa Kirisame."

"You…"

"I will accept you, as I have offered. You need not fear me." The spirit seemed to shrink, although nothing about her changed.

"Thank you," said Marisa, still meeting the ghost's gaze.

And, finally, the spirit smiled without cruelty. "I am Mima, an old, lost spirit. More than that, you needn't know – I am your teacher."

Marisa nodded, and stepped forward.

"You have much to learn."

 _You too, huh?_

 _And then, Marisa's thoughts had taken over. Now was the present, not the past – the branch of the tale had ended, and once again, the past had become the background._

" _Didja have to dress like you do now?" said Koishi, a disembodied voice of the moment._

" _She said I'd come to enjoy it. She wasn't wrong. Didn't take all that long, either." Marisa shrugged. "How long has it been?"_

" _Few hours," said Koishi, now a visible image._

＊ ＊ ＊

"Oh…" Marisa slowly sat up in bed. It was getting less uncomfortable to have such a smooth transition between dream and reality. "I guess that's enough sleep, then."

Koishi was already up, sitting by the side of the bed. "Morning! Again."

"What'd you think?" said Marisa, swinging her legs out of bed.

"She wasn't nice to you," said Koishi, looking a little sad. "You can feel it, too."

Marisa frowned. "I don't think she could have been much nicer to me, to be honest. But yeah, she was pretty cold."

"She hurt you," Koishi said. Marisa could feel… upset. Almost anger.

"People can hurt each other without meaning to," said Marisa, noting some irritation. It was weird, how much Koishi's presence made her watch her own feelings.

"Yeah, but…" Koishi slumped. "It wasn't the same as an accident with you."

"No," Marisa replied. "It wasn't. She was… well, she wasn't kind."

Koishi sat there, and Marisa could feel her unhappy looks digging in. "I get it, I get it," she said, finally, getting a little frustrated. "She hurt me, and you can feel that."

"Some of you is still afraid of her."

Marisa winced, and held back her urge to deny it. It was difficult. "Yeah. Not all of me, but… there's a lot I left behind, I guess."

"…I want her to apologize." Koishi was staring, now, and Marisa could feel… well, it was the closest thing to _angry_ she had ever felt Koishi be.

"To… apologize?" It was oddly specific, and Marisa was finding it hard to think. She was wrestling with all her responses, and all her feelings.

"She never apologized to you, did she?" There was some uncertainty in those words, but they were true.

"She didn't, not directly," Marisa said, still trying to hold herself back – she'd found herself really wanting to drop the subject, to leave it hanging and unaddressed.

That wouldn't work with Koishi. In fact, it was probably Marisa's fault it wouldn't.

And from that, there were countless little angry offshoots. That Koishi was doing this on the basis of something Marisa had agreed in good faith to share, that this… pressure was here despite all Marisa had done to avoid applying any.

They were all stupid – and more importantly, they were both wrong and hurtful. It's not as if Koishi meant to make this difficult.

"She should!" Koishi said at last. " _Stop it!_ "

"Stop… what?" Marisa's trains of thought came grinding to a halt in favour of confusion. She could feel the satori's frustration, but she couldn't decipher it this time.

"Holding everything back! You can't hide everything just because you don't want to hurt me!" Koishi's frustration almost hurt, and Marisa flinched.

And then, Koishi stopped, and there was a tempest of emotion – odd, terrified, and hurt.

ᅟ

Everything was… hard to see, now.

Koishi was afraid, again. And she was angry, and she was upset. But she…

She was afraid of that anger. She had felt it before, felt that unease, and it was so, so much more threatening than anything that had come before. Too many pieces of the past, too many things gone wrong.

She wanted to run, and she didn't. She could feel Marisa's frustration, her unease, the difficult effort of holding each train of thought back.

She was afraid of every angry little thought. She was terrified of what it held, what it meant for her, what it meant that Marisa would hold it back. And yet, she wanted to know, she wanted to know because everything that the black-and-white lover stood for said she _should_ know.

 _Trust me._

Koishi looked up, and took a step back. Marisa met her gaze, and looked… it was hard to tell. There was frustration coming from her, there was worry, but… there was that same resolve.

 _I'm trying to think. I'm not hiding it. I'm waiting just a little before we can talk about it, because… it's hard to think like this, isn't it?_

Koishi paused. The imprint of Marisa's feelings – affection, fond regard, but also fear and pain – was still burning in her own emotions.

But… nothing had changed. She had seen those feelings – those dreams – because Marisa had allowed her to, without fear or hatred.

"Why don'tcha sit down and hold on to those thoughts with me?" Marisa said, now speaking aloud. "Even without that third eye, without all those other feelings, it's really hard to think."

And then, Koishi breathed in, guilt and sorrow overtaking fear and anger. She'd… started saying and thinking a lot of things all of a sudden. A lot of mean, difficult things. It was… weird. It was scary.

It felt terrible.

"I'm…" Koishi looked up to the witch. "I'm sorry. I'm—" Koishi was cut off by a hand on her head, ruffling her hair.

"You didn't do anything huge, Koishi. We're alright. I know being angry isn't really your thing – it's gonna be rough when it comes up like that."

"I wanted to help, and I made it all more difficult." Koishi sat down by the bedside, and cast her gaze at the floor.

"It happens, y'know." Marisa was smiling, for some reason; Koishi could feel it. "It's really hard to stick around somebody you care about. You'll make things a bit more difficult sometimes."

"Then… why?" Koishi didn't speak the rest of her question aloud.

"Because it's worth it. The good and the bad, all of it! If you don't think so, you never have to stick around. But I think it's worth it. And even if you're not sure, I can feel how you are, heh."

"I want to believe it's worth it," Koishi said, kicking at thin air.

"Has it been so far?" Marisa asked. Koishi could feel no doubt from her.

"Yeah," said Koishi, giving a small smile. The pain, the resentment, the upset – all those feelings had settled, now, although they still existed. It was a terrible, painful cascade – but nothing was broken.

"Do you wanna go first, or should I?" said Marisa. "Oh, also, want a hug?" It seemed strange that she'd ask, given how things had been before, but when she looked at it, there was just… caution. Not out of fear or terror, not out of a desire to be far away, but simply to give choice.

Koishi took up the offer without answering, and she could feel that same, safe warmth from Marisa.

"I… didn't like seeing you like that. Nothing makes you scared, or hurt." Koishi was quiet, now.

"Yeah, I understand. It's painful to see anyone you love in pain, and it's scary when it's not like anything you've seen before." Marisa shook her head. "And I hadn't really thought about it much. Always figured I'd just moved on, so… it kinda surprised me, too."

"But… you hold that back all the time for me," said Koishi. "Isn't it hard?"

"Yeah, but… not as hard, really."

Koishi leaned into the witch, and then softly collapsed into her lap.

"You opened your third eye pretty recently, and you hadn't felt _anything_ for a while. I knew things were gonna be hard for you, and from the start, I promised myself that I wasn't going to hold you back, no matter how scared I got.

"But I've been… well, I've been me since you met me. It's a lot more of a surprise if something gets to me, right?"

"Yeah." Koishi curled up in Marisa's lap. "You're soft. Both ways."

Marisa chuckled. "You too!"

"What about you?" said Koishi. Marisa hadn't talked about her thoughts, yet.

"I was… surprised, and kinda confused. I wasn't trying to hold back my thoughts to hide from you – it's just that… thinking them too clearly is kinda like saying them out loud, to you, so… I didn't want to say something that was just me being angry." Marisa sighed. "It's been a long time since I've seen Mima."

Marisa paused, but Koishi said nothing. "Are you angry at her?"

"I don't know. I don't like how you felt, but I haven't met her. I don't know what she's… like, not to anyone else, and not now."

"Yeah. Well… how about you come along through the rest of my memories first? Just how I feel sometimes isn't enough to judge somebody on, y'know."

"Yeah… I'm sorry."

"I am too, really," said Marisa. "But if we're okay, then it doesn't matter so much. It's good to know your mistakes, but… if we're both alright, you don't need to hold on to them so tight."

Koishi smiled, again. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it." Marisa smiled, although Koishi couldn't see it.

"What about the rest?"

"Well, there's a lot of little things, but I know you were curious, so…"

＊ ＊ ＊

"So it felt like you'd asked me for something, and then you were getting mad at me about it. Buuuut…"

"But?"

"Well, it's not like you'd planned to be upset about it at all. And even then, you were upset 'cause you cared about me." Marisa grinned, and went on. "Honestly, that much is nice to see, even if I already knew."

Koishi's discomfort finally seemed to have faded, and right now, there was a quiet content. Usually, her joy was pronounced – not now.

Still, Marisa was glad.

"I was afraid of me, too," said Koishi, finally, still on Marisa's lap. "I've never been angry like that. It felt like… other pieces of my past. Other people. I don't… want to be angry."

"Eh," Marisa shrugged. "Some people seem to look for reasons to be angry. I don't understand 'em, though."

"And because I thought… for a little bit, I thought you were hiding things, too, it just… it felt like I was back then, instead of here now." And again, little pieces of what Marisa had felt from the odd satori fell into place.

"I getcha, really. Sometimes… well, a while ago, after I left Mima, it was hard not to feel like her, sometimes. She was the only teacher I had, and… well, all that really passed for family, too. Didn't have much else to learn from, at first.

"But the moment you realize what you're doing, the moment you _choose_ to stop, then you're not them, and you're not like 'em. That's the important part."

Koishi closed her eyes, but she – well, she _felt_ alright, and with her, that tended to tell the truth. "I'm tired."

"Yeah, this kinda stuff is tiring." Marisa replied, laying back in bed. "I've got some stuff to do around the house, if you just want to stay around here."

"That sounds good…" said Koishi, already sounding drowsy. Slowly, the satori rolled off of Marisa's lap.

Marisa got up, and Koishi stayed in bed, laying there, staring at the ceiling.

"Well, just call if you need anything, alright?" Marisa said.

"I will," said Koishi, rolling over. God, she was adorable.

"Can we go see sis tomorrow?" she said, her voice a little muffled by a pillow.

"Of course! You wanna take me along, then?"

"Yeah."

By the time Marisa spared another glance backwards, Koishi was already asleep, curled up in the witch's bed. Her feelings were… quieter, while she slept, but not entirely invisible.

Things were, again, well. There was a certain, quiet joy, and a certain resolute satisfaction in the fact that even the difficult and terrifying novelties could be handled with Koishi, no matter how fragile or uncertain she might seem.

Cute as she was, she had a lot of willpower.

Carefully casting the spells for an arbitrary trap on one of her books – that Patchouli had so rudely disarmed – Marisa smiled to herself. She had a few things to do, but that was alright, and Koishi was clearly still comfortable here.

Marisa let out a sigh, but she was, in the moment, happy.

Extending that moment, she set about her day's work, ready for once for a day to be over.


	16. Chapter 16 - Settling Embers

"It's… I can't control it."

"You already have."

The girl took a step back and breathed a sigh. "It's… how?"

"It is overwhelming. When you first cast magic, you simply released it. Now, you are controlling its entire path. You _can_ , and you _have_. Your fear, your uncertainty – your weakness – they are taking control of you."

Mima's face was expressionless, simply staring at where the last spell had been cast.

"But…"

"You needn't question me," said the spirit, her tone sharp.

Marisa flinched.

"At least, not until you have grown. There will come a time... _if_ you have the strength."

The girl's mind, however, had already moved beyond the spirit. Her arms were sore, and her body was tired. Her spirit – her desire to continue – was stronger than either.

And so, she thrust out her arms once again, breathing in, feeling the magic of the area collapse upon her. And then, she _remembered_. Tales of old Youkai and their magic, of ancient wizardry. Of this spirit, Mima, and what she had conjured forth upon their first meeting.

She remembered the strange, focused lines in the air, the absolute concentration and structure their erratic movements somehow seemed to follow.

And then, she could see them. One or two, figments of the recent past, now made present. They flickered, darted in little straight lines, and bolted towards the orb of energy that Marisa had begun to conjure.

She released the orb, and then grasped where it had been, even as it traveled.

It was difficult. She could feel the link, feel the flow of the magic, but it was taxing. It pulled at her as much as she pulled at it.

But still, she could manipulate it, and she did, even as it fought back.

After what seemed like minutes, however long it was, she finally let the orb disperse, and stood there, watching where it had been a moment ago.

Mima was right. She _had_ controlled it.

"…Remarkable," said Mima, and she was smiling when Marisa looked to her. "That orb – those lines of focus, as you formed it… where did you learn them?"

"When you first met me," said Marisa. "What you made – you used those lines, and when I was trying to focus, I remembered them."

"And you truly haven't trained before, hm?"

"No…" Marisa wasn't sure what to think – but then, the ghost's smile seemed a little warmer than it had been, any time before.

"Well, then. I'm afraid that I must go back on my earlier word." The ghost let out a little laugh, and went on, either ignoring or enjoying the terror in her student's uncertainty. "I will teach you… but I'm afraid that I can't just let you leave, now!"

Marisa wasn't sure what to make of that.

 _And Marisa felt a tugging at her sleeve._

 _Ah. Again, a dream. There were a lot of memories lost to the moment each time._

" _She didn't mean it, Koishi. She didn't try to stop me when I left, y'know."_

 _Koishi nodded. "You weren't sure, though."_

" _I wasn't, no," said Marisa, shrugging. "I didn't know anything about her at the time. She took care of me, at the least."_

 _Koishi nodded, again. Marisa could feel her attempts to hold any judgment back._

" _Y'know, it never occurred to me back then how weird it was that she_ did _take care of me. Fed me and clothed me and all that – as a ghost, she didn't need any of that. And as a kid, I just assumed that's what anybody taking care of you did."_

" _You didn't have anywhere else to go," said Koishi, the expression of her odd, dreaming image still focused._

" _I didn't. When this is all done, we'll go to see her, alright?"_

＊ ＊ ＊

"Promise?"

Marisa rolled over, noticing the lack of weight as she did so, and found Koishi staring.

"Yeah, I promise."

"It doesn't feel good," said Koishi.

"Mima's a little difficult, for me," said Marisa. "I ran away from my parents when I was pretty young. So… she was all I had, for a long time, and she was the only one who could teach me."

"You're… afraid?" Koishi frowned. "I don't know the words, just the feeling."

"A bit. I always wanted her approval, and I felt like I'd have nothing without her. It's different now…"

"But some of it feels like it did before." Said Koishi, nodding. Marisa gave a small smile.

"Yeah. You know how it is!" Marisa grinned, sitting up. "It takes a lotta effort to ignore it."

"But we're going to see her," said Koishi, finally.

"If she's still around," said Marisa. "I dunno when ghosts like her move on, but as long as I can find her, yeah."

"Okay." Koishi floated into the air in her usual, odd, fashion.

"So… you said you wanted to go down and see Satori today, yeah?" Marisa stretched, and then started to gather her things.

"Yeah. I want her to see things!" Koishi hopped from invisible perch to perch in the air in excitement. "I want her to see us!"

Marisa laughed. It was good to be invited, and that was still a little odd – breaking-and-entering had always been her preference, and in this case, she was just glad to be welcome.

But Koishi was an odd one, herself, and Marisa loved both that oddity and the person behind it.

Putting her hat on, Marisa found herself on the receiving end of something between a tackle and a hug.

"Thank you!" said Koishi, still holding. Marisa set aside a moment's confusion – remembering that to the odd satori, her feelings were something of a shared experience.

Even to Marisa, it was a little daunting, to know that her frustration, her anger, her snap reflexes for standoffs – all of these were shared. Except… Koishi had now faced that fact.

It had hurt, and nothing was broken.

"You're wondering," said Koishi. "There's too much to see."

She meant, of course, to ask what Marisa was thinking about.

"I'm just worrying," said Marisa. "Don't tell anyone, though!" she added, winking.

Koishi tilted her head. "Okay. What's worrying?"

Marisa stopped her path towards the door. This wasn't a conversation she'd rather have on the go. "Well, just the future."

"How come?"

"A lot of little reasons—"

"I can't read them all when they're mixed like that," said Koishi, giving a small frown.

"I know, I know, gimme a moment!" Marisa threw her arms up in the air in joking frustration, and Koishi's frown disappeared. "Okay, so… hey!"

Now Koishi was on Marisa's shoulders, providing almost no weight. "I'm listening!"

"Alright, alright. So… well, I know it's a bit weird, because one of the things I like the most about you is how excited you are for everything in the future – because I want to live like that, and I haven't met anyone like you."

Koishi nodded, staring intently.

"I can't see the future, and it's a little worrying. I dunno how reliable I am—"

"Really reliable!"

"—in the long term," Marisa said, shaking her head. "And I don't know how either of our feelings might change. 'Cause at least for humans, feelings can do that!"

Marisa paused for a moment – there was no feeling of worry or terror from Koishi, although she was still quiet. Marisa went on.

"We've been through a lot already, but we haven't known each other for that long," said Marisa. "And we're kinda in love, right?"

Koishi was quiet, but again, without apprehension.

"So it's all kinda fast, at least for us humans. Usually, it happens, but that often means people are rushing into things without thinking – 'cause when you're in love, it's really easy to overlook problems or ignore them."

"You don't do that," said Koishi. "Maybe it's because of how you worry about me, or maybe it's because you think so much about anything that's important to you."

"Well, I try," Marisa let out a small sigh. "Feelings are a pain sometimes, though."

"You didn't want to keep seeing me 'cause you loved me, at the start." Koishi smiled. "You just wanted to see the future with me, because there's so much to be excited about! And because you see it that way, too!

"So it's okay! The future is scary, sometimes. We might not always feel the same, and you're worried about that!" Koishi smiled, and Marisa couldn't help feel something between joy and pride. Koishi, right now, was calm reading from both thought and feeling.

The satori went on. "You aren't going to hate me, and you're always going to be fun and excited about what's coming. We might feel different, but I trust you. We might be sad about it, but I'll be okay! Even if what we've got now changes, I still want to see the future with you."

Marisa had seen a lot of emotionally charged messes. Heck, dealing with Gensokyo after Mima had been her only example of just about anything had _made_ her one of those for a while, and she didn't particularly enjoy that time in her life.

When it came to love and romance, all of that was even worse.

But that wasn't who she was now, and it was never who Koishi was.

And, of course, rushing headlong into things way too fast was _entirely_ her style. Always had been.

"Heheh, sorry," said Marisa.

"For what?"

"I was thinking like you're fragile." The witch shook her head. "I know that whatever happens, _I'll_ be fine, but I was worrying about if you'd be. Except you're runnin' around facing all your fears pretty much every day now!"

Koishi seemed to be given pause by this, and Marisa tilted her head a little, and then realized that she'd picked that up from Koishi. Was that subconscious, or just normal natural mimicry?

The satori didn't respond, which was a little unusual. She really was thinking.

"Nobody likes pain," she said at last. "Not in their heart, at least. But…" Koishi looked up at Marisa, and it was an oddly sad expression, coming from her. "When I ran away from everything, when I closed my eye, it's because… there was only pain. I knew Sis loved me, I knew I was safe at home, but… _everything_ new just hurt me. I kept trying to ignore it, but it just… wouldn't change. So I didn't want to feel anything anymore, because it was never going to be any good.

"But that's never how it's going to be with you! I know that even if we hurt each other, or even if we're not always the same, or if we're different to each other in the future, you're never going to be full of hate like that."

And then, subconscious trickster that the satori was, Marisa realized that she was being hugged.

Naturally, she returned the gesture, picking Koishi up.

"Yeah. No matter what happens – to us, with us, or just in general! – I'm here for you, alright? Even if we're just friends, then – I still want to see the future with you, 'cause it's exciting and strange and fun, and it's even more of all of that with you!"

"Hey…" Koishi said, now looking oddly curious.

"Yeah?"

"What do you mean, 'just friends'? You're thinking about it kinda funny."

Marisa paused, and gave a slightly sheepish grin. "Oh, it's kinda a romance thing."

"Oh." Koishi paused again. "I never really asked or found out. People thought about it, but they hated me," she added, frowning at the last part.

"Eh?" said Marisa, wondering if this was going where she thought it was going.

"Marisa…"

"Yeah?"

"What's romance?"

＊ ＊ ＊

Koishi was a little confused. Marisa had _tried_ to answer her question, and kept running into weird feelings and thoughts. Romance was like… being close? Like being friends, but more? Being happy around somebody? Being happy _for_ somebody?

It seemed natural enough for Koishi to believe that she loved Marisa, and Marisa definitely believed that she loved Koishi, but… for some reason, even the black-white, monochrome witch was having trouble explaining what love and romance were.

It seemed to come down to… believing that you loved somebody, and having them believe the same. But… it could be hard, or it could hurt, or it could mean a lot of other things. Why was it so complicated? Why not ask that?

"Why's it so complicated?" Koishi asked. She was flying! With Marisa! Oh, upside-down. Hanging off the broomstick.

Some feelings – even a bit of embarrassment? – from Marisa. _I'm an idiot,_ she thought, although not with anger or pain.

"Okay," said Marisa, with a sigh. "It's all a lot of strong feelings, when it comes to love. So it's not always going to make a lot of sense."

"Why not?"

"People don't think well if they're upset, or anything like that. I mean… like yesterday, right?"

Koishi's heart dropped.

And rose again. Nothing about that statement was being mean to her. "Yeah."

"It's not like either of us meant to make it that difficult," said Marisa. "I mean, when you got upset, it was just 'cause you care about me a lot."

"Yeah, so… that's romance?"

"Not all of it. But that kinda thing is what makes it so complicated. You get close, your heart gets all fluttery, and then things start getting difficult, because it's hard to be around somebody and feel that strongly about them all the time."

Koishi thought about this for a moment, and it made some sense. Well, it was about _not_ making sense, but it made sense.

"Even you, I bet!" Marisa added, smiling.

"Even me," Koishi echoed. It was true – she didn't feel tired much when she wasn't in pain, and she was always excited to be going anywhere with Marisa – but even then, she was always worried about Marisa. Usually about how Marisa was worrying with her.

Last time, she'd gotten… angry. And that had been scary, because she'd never _felt_ that before. Not from herself.

But even now, it was a bit upsetting. She didn't really want anything to hurt Marisa, even if she wasn't afraid or tired or upset. She wanted the world to be nice to the black-white witch. Marisa had come running to help, and had stayed around to keep helping, being really, really nice in her own way.

Koishi wanted the world – the world Marisa thought was nicer now, the world that she was showing Koishi – to be like that to her, too.

"Aw, stop it," said Marisa. "You're gonna embarrass me in front of the family at this rate!"

Koishi realized she'd been sharing her feelings – although mostly just because Marisa had said so. It was nice, that she could – she didn't, with most people, although she didn't know why, or how she chose who she shared her feelings with.

The satori took a seat on Marisa's shoulders, now, feeling the wind as she did. "It's worth it," she said, mirroring the monochrome love's thoughts. "Even if things change, or if it's different. Even if it's just now, it's worth it."

Marisa laughed, but it wasn't a funny laugh – it was happy, and Koishi could feel it. She was happy, too.

"I'm glad you think so," said Marisa.

Silence fell, and the wind was the only noise for a bit.

"Hey, Marisa?" Koishi said at last. Her heart was jumping. She liked it.

"Yeah?"

"I love you." Koishi felt a lot of thoughts and feelings – she wasn't sure whose, now.

Lots of worries and doubts, all set aside. _The moment is now, and we'll be alright._

 _I love you too._

"I love you too!" said Marisa, and for a moment, emotions were just a small, collective cloud of quiet joy. Koishi knew, in one way or another, that it wouldn't always feel like this.

But the future was always changing.

 _And that's just the most exciting thing, isn't it?_

Koishi, realizing she'd left her perch on Marisa some time ago, tackled her in the biggest hug she could.

"Hold—hold onI'mTRYINGTOSTEER—"

＊ ＊ ＊

" _What_ happened?"

Satori wasn't exactly surprised to see both Marisa and her sister show up looking… well, less than pristine. In fact, given what she knew of Marisa Kirisame – and, admittedly, her sister – it was probably to be _expected_.

But even so, curiosity had bested her.

"Well," said Marisa, grinning in that insufferably confident way of hers. "I—"

"We were talking about a lot of things, and I asked what romance was," said Koishi, cutting Marisa off entirely. Koishi could, as much as it hurt Satori's formal self to admit, be an amazing accomplice for a troublemaker… but she was not a good liar.

"So she kinda tried to answer, but it was hard to get." Or, well, not a liar at all. "Because romance is hard to get." Not even by omission.

 _Well, gotta make_ some _tradeoffs_ , came a stray thought from Marisa. Satori didn't comment, but only because she was almost in shock at what her sister was on about.

"And we kept talking, and then we stopped for a second, and then my heart got all jumpy – it was really cool! – and I told her I loved her!"

Marisa cringed a little at that one, but held her expression otherwise.

"And then she thought about a lot of the stuff we'd talked about – the future, a lot of other things! And said she loved me too! So I gave her a big hug, but she was steering…"

"…So you crashed her," Satori said at last, still taking in what had just been said.

"Yep!" Koishi floated into the air. She was practically glowing – crash landing and various bruises notwithstanding, she was overjoyed right now. Satori could feel it.

And then, with a more accusing mind, Satori turned to look at Marisa, who offered a sheepish chuckle. "All true," she said. _What? It is!_

"Of course it is. Well, come on in, both of you," she said, shaking her head. "Make yourself at home, Koishi."

Marisa raised a hand. "What about m—"

"I would much rather _you_ didn't."

＊ ＊ ＊

Satori took a seat, taking a sip of her tea. Marisa had declined to have any, herself, and Koishi had vanished from the room after declaring that Satori seemed a little worried, and should talk with Marisa.

"Well…"

"Yeah, it's all true." _I mean, I can teach your sister all sorts of funny things, but…_ "Koishi's not much into lying about anything." Marisa laughed.

"So if I'm to presume, then…"

"Yep!" Marisa said, grinning – and, to Satori's surprise, blushing a little. "I've stolen your sister's heart! And I'm keeping it!" _Unless she wants it back, I mean._

"I see," said Satori, still unsure what to make of the situation.

"It just turns out she kinda pulled a fast one on me!" _I mean, she kinda stole mine too. I don't need it back, though!_

"You wouldn't, would you?" Satori smiled, but was, in the end, still worried.

"Yeah." _You're worried, right?_

"I am," said Satori, replying to thought before Marisa voiced it. "It is not that I don't trust you—"

"She's your sister, of course you'll be worried. I'm a big question mark, we haven't known each other that long, and now we're in love. There's a whole lotta red flags going on there." _I mean, even_ I _was worried about it._ Marisa shrugged, and went on. "I dunno how I can help, though."

" _You_ were worried about something? I don't know if that's comforting." Satori smiled, and Marisa laughed.

 _Just this once, it probably should be._ "Well, I talked with her about it. 'cause she reads me – and that's neat, actually – and I was worried." Marisa smiled, and Satori noted only that it wasn't a particularly troubling smile. "We're kind of in love, it hasn't been long – all signs of being reckless.

"But your sis doesn't really have it in her to be mean, and she kind of accepts anyone as they are. We get along so well because we're both excited about the future, and what'll change and pop up!

"So it'd hurt, if we drift, or if it doesn't work out, but I'd still want to be her friend, all the way, and it feels like she'd want the same. I mean, of course I hope it works out, but it's hard to tell for sure when you're in love, right? Love is blind and all can ask her, too, though."

Satori smiled, and found herself somewhat relieved. Not, of course, entirely, but worry about her sister was in that nature.

 _Yeah, I hear ya._ Marisa grinned.

"You can't _actually_ hear my thoughts," Satori said, not even raising an eyebrow.

"Nah, but you're not trying to hide anything. If it means anything, I'm still worried. Love's what it is, and I _really_ don't wanna hurt Koishi. But… well, you can't be that close and not have to work some things out, right?" Marisa shrugged. "If there's an easier way, I'm all ears, really, but as long as Koishi's okay, then I'm okay." The witch paused, and then added, "and not in some stupid she's-all-that-matters-and-I'm-nothing-without-her way, that stuff is just stupid. But as long as we can work things out – whether we're friends or stealing each other's hearts, and whether it's now or waaaay later – then that sounds okay to me."

That was the decisive train of thought, as far as Satori could tell. The rest were hard to read – scattered, little doubts and hopes and asides.

Finally, she spoke, still smiling. "I can't help but wonder how many people would really think you _capable_ of such responsibility."

Marisa grinned. "If you don't know what's responsible, then you might do it by accident!" _When you're going all the way, you gotta get it right._ "Anyways," she said, stretching, "I don't think _you're_ actually off the hook yet."

"Hm?" Satori raised one eyebrow.

 _Yeah._ "Koishi's gonna want to talk with you, too." _You're kinda like me, huh?_

"Like _you_?"

"You're afraid a lot, with Koishi. And you work hard to make sure it doesn't get in the way.

"But you do a good job. I know you hate what happened. You were _there,_ nothin' I've got is going to compare. But…" Marisa's grin became a maskless smile, and it looked a little sad.

Satori wondered for a moment what her sister would feel from this.

"You're really important to her. Even if you don't think you deserve it anymore – or at all, I guess. Although, if you think that, you're just plain wrong."

Satori had mentioned before that it was impressive how much attention Marisa Kirisame paid to things. She tried hard enough to seem the reckless witch that many of her trains of thought habitually considered chaos, minor destruction, and deceit at every turn.

And even then, she kept track of what she threw into disarray, or damaged, or lied about. Perhaps more importantly, she clearly kept track of _why_ each effect took place the way it did.

"It was her idea to come down here, not mine. I'm happy to come along, 'cause she's happy to see you." _Not that I mind you, anyways_.

"I've already told you that you're dangerously observant," said Satori. Composure, now, was quite a conscious effort. "But thank you."

Marisa laughed. "I'm not done! You don't get away _that_ easy, I'm playing all my cards."

Satori smiled, and bowed her head. "Very well, Marisa Kirisame. I think you already win this round, but if you must go on…"

"Then I will!" Marisa grinned again, although it seemed more genuine now. "You've seen through me, so you know I think about everything waaay too much. And even doing that for Koishi all the time – even though it's silly, 'cause she's stronger than that by a ton – I don't have a worry in the world about her, down here.

"And the biggest tiny thing…" Marisa's grin faded, again, into a smile that was almost sad. "Well, I can't read minds like you can, or feelings like Koishi can. I can feel her sometimes, but it's nothing like the things she sees, so I'm just guessing, but…"

"But?"

"I think one of the little things that keeps her excited for the future is… well, she's always excited and happy to come back here, that much I'm sure about. Your sis is smart, no matter how weird she is – there's no way she can't see how stupidly guilty you feel about what happened to her.

"And I think every time she comes down here, it's like she wants to say, 'Look, sis! I'm still growing, I'm still moving!'. Like every time she grows and learns, she's so excited to try and use that to show that it's not your fault, that she's doing fine now, thanks to you."

Satori failed to stop a reflexive, sharp intake of breath. "Thanks to me?"

"When she went and opened her eye again, you were the only safe place in her entire world. When she couldn't even _think_ , she talked to you about it. It ain't your fault she closed her third eye in the first place…"

 _But she sure as hell wasn't gonna open it again without you._

"Y'know?"

Satori closed her eyes. This was all… well, too much. And she was utterly thankful for it.

"Thank you," she said. It was more like a whisper.

"Anytime!" said the witch, grinning now. After being that genuine, Satori could see where some people might find charm in that obnoxious expression. "Anyways, juuust this once, I won't embarrass you any more than that."

Satori jumped at the sudden sensation of physical contact, but accepted it quickly; Koishi was here, hugging her.

"I'll leave you two be for a bit. I won't break anything, okay?" _Now—_

"Don't steal anything either, if you don't mind."

 _Damn it._ "Fine, fine…" _Maybe just one—_

"I said _anything._ "

＊ ＊ ＊

"So how come you're trusting me _now_?"

Rin Kaenbyou had taken a casual seat beside the witch and troublemaker, Marisa Kirisame, who had been wandering, looking mostly bored. Surprisingly, she hadn't been breaking or stealing anything – a little unlike her _first_ visit.

"If Satori trusts you, that's good enough for me. I mean, she can read your mind, right?"

"You were one hell of a pain the first time I came through!"

"You were breaking everything! And you didn't leave any bodies!"

To be entirely honest, as much as any proper caretaker might object to Marisa Kirisame's very existence, Orin didn't mind her. She seemed, for the most part, like somebody who knew how to keep things interesting, and she was always good for a conversation, which was pretty important to her.

Now, the stealing part was a little more of a rivalry, even if the cat was a little more specific about her targets.

"It's not like I had any obligation, y'know. I just had free reign! Well. Sort of. See, Koishi's good, she went and stole my heart while I was stealing hers," Marisa rolled her eyes, and spoke with overplayed exasperation. "So now I feel _bad_ about stealing things here."

Orin laughed a little loudly, and didn't hesitate to push the conversation along. "How'd _that_ happen, anyway? You and Koishi? You don't seem like the type to let anyone hold you down!"

"I'm not!" Marisa grinned. "She just found me in the middle of nowhere. Kept finding me."

"And she just stole the master thief's heart?"

"Hey, don't talk like that, she's pretty good!" Marisa laughed. "Really, though, she's not holding me down."

"I dunno, you look pretty crazy."

To be fair, it was quite clear that Marisa made a point of looking crazy – no actual mage would bother with a traditional, over-the-top witch's outfit.

Marisa smiled. "Well, she's always excited to explore anything we can. Even though it's scary, now."

Orin nodded, a little more serious now. "Really, I'm just glad. It was pretty hard – on Satori, and on the whole palace – for a long time."

"You've known them all a while, right?"

"Longer than you've been alive!" The cat laughed, and went on. "Don't think anybody thought we'd see Koishi like this again, though."

"Eh, sometimes it takes a crazy person to do crazy things." Marisa shrugged. "It's not like I opened that eye for her."

"Nah," said Orin, "but for some reason, you really made her _want_ to."

Marisa fell back on her characteristic, insane grin. "I guess I'm just that cool, huh?"

"So cool that our young mistress has got you on a leash, huh?" Orin grinned right back.

"Oh please, she's my partner in crime!"

＊ ＊ ＊

"We got into an argument," said Koishi, kicking her legs idly. She looked a little sad, and a little worried.

She felt a little bit more of both of those, if Satori's own feelings were any reflection of her sister's. It was a little hard to adapt to, after years of invisibility.

 _And I got angry._

Koishi's thoughts weren't hard to read, although sometimes they were oddly vacant. A redeveloping mind made for some oddities.

Satori waited for Koishi to go on. Anger was… well, not something that Koishi had ever been.

"Not at Marisa, really. It was… with her past." _The ghost. Her teacher._

"What happened?"

"She wasn't… very nice. And Marisa was… still a little scared." Koishi's idle movements had stilled now. "She didn't really want to talk about it, but…" _I didn't want to leave it alone._

Satori nodded.

"But Marisa's always been brave, and she's been really nice to me _." It didn't feel fair._ "I wanted to see that teacher again."

"Do they still meet?" Satori, for the most part, was simply content to let her sister speak. This was new, and she was worried.

"They don't." Koishi looked down. "I wanted an apology. For Marisa. She didn't…" _She wasn't angry like I was. It was her past, and she was a little scared, too._

"Are you angry about what happened to you?" Satori asked, at last.

"No," Koishi said. _I don't like to think about it_.

And then, Koishi stopped, staying in thought. _It's the same for her, isn't it?_

 _Not entirely, but a little, yes._

And then, Satori felt some degree of worry and regret from Koishi, different than the pain or fear she had felt before – It wasn't a fear of anyone else.

"I got angry," Koishi said. _It was scary_. "It was… other people used to feel like that. Angry. At someone." _At me._ "I've never felt that way."

"And why did you?"

"Her teacher hurt her. I could see it." _There's more about it than I understand. I want to understand it. I don't want to tell Marisa her life was wrong. Was it? I don't understand._

Satori stepped forward, and then pulled her younger sister into a hug. _You're worrying too much_.

 _I don't want her to be hurt. I don't want to hurt her._

 _It's difficult, you know._

 _She said that too._ Koishi's hold tightened. _I'm scared._

Koishi's thoughts began to move faster. Little lines of worry and doubt. Satori spoke now, simply for a difference in voice.

"Would Marisa agree to something and continue to hate it?"

"No. But…" _She didn't want to talk about it. Some of it still scares her._

"And is she a person afraid to make mistakes?" From the pieces of thoughts and feelings Satori could feel, Koishi _was_ frustrated, and perhaps a little too focused. It was hard to believe that this teacher of Marisa's could be… well, anything but what Koishi had been angry at – anything more than cruel.

 _No. She's always ready to make them. She always thinks she'd rather make them than stand still not making any._

 _Then you can follow her, can you not? She's offered it._

 _I'm… I feel so sure. I don't think I should be._ Koishi let go, and then took a step back, sighing. "I don't know a lot about her teacher. And I don't know all of what Marisa thinks about it."

And then, Satori smiled. "It's hard to handle emotions. New ones, much more so. If you can stop yourself before they take over, then you're doing better than most."

"I still feel like Marisa's wrong." Koishi kicked at the floor.

"Perhaps she is. Perhaps she isn't – she's happy to take you along to find out, is she not?"

"…she's always happy to take me along." Koishi smiled, finally arriving at a reminder that seemed to bring her comfort.

"Then do as you always do."

"You're happy." Koishi tilted her head a little.

"When I see how far you've come this quickly, it's very hard not to be." Satori's smile was genuine.

"You like Marisa, too."

Satori chuckled. "Lying and troublemaking aside, she appreciates somebody very important to me for who she is, and has helped her more than I'd thought was possible. Whatever she does, it's... something I'll always be grateful for."

And then, Koishi hugged Satori again, holding tightly. _Hey, sis?_

 _Yes?_

 _I love you._

Satori could feel a warmth, but whose it was seemed impossible to tell, now. _I love you too, Koishi._

A while passed, and Koishi finally let go.

"I feel a lot better now. Thank you!" And then, as she often did, she floated into the air, casting aside all physics.

Satori considered telling her sister, as always, that she was welcome here. And yet, in the moment, the greater joy was that now, absent all doubt and concern, Koishi already knew.

It was hard not to cry.. And, with only Koishi there, Satori Komeiji cast aside all composure, and did.

＊ ＊ ＊

Marisa laid back, noting with a little distaste the quality of the bed in the guest room. It was well-maintained, large, and expensive – nothing like the mess Marisa lived in.

That mess, on the other hand, was _her_ mess, and dammit, things just weren't the same without it. This bed didn't even have lumps!

It did, on the other hand, have Koishi. Since when, Marisa wasn't sure, but having at least _one_ unexpectedly messy thing was nice.

"Heya," said Marisa. "How's Satori?" _And how're you?_

"I'm okay," said Koishi. She seemed tired – Marisa could feel traces of feelings, but none of them seemed strong now. "We were talking about you."

"Happens all the time when you're as awesome as I am!" Marisa grinned, and Koishi giggled. "But just 'cause you're extra special, I'll listen. What was it about?"

"About how we fought. I was still…" Koishi paused, looking a little confused. "I still had a lot of little feelings."

Marisa waited. Koishi spoke again.

"It's hard to believe you, even though I can see you're not lying."

"What about?"

Marisa let out a sharp breath as Koishi flopped on top of her. "About Mima. Feelings are hard to control. They say a lot of things."

"So even if I say she wasn't all bad…"

"It still feels like she was."

"Because you've only seen one part…"

"And that part really upset me." Koishi smiled, and then giggled.

Marisa did the same. "See? We get each other."

Koishi curled up, now in a comfortable position on top of Marisa. She'd grown a lot personally, but she was still pretty small when it came to actual size. "Sis said that you were okay with making mistakes."

"Yep! If you aren't, you're just bad at making the fun ones!"

"And that you're happy to have me along."

"Always! You make everything more fun." Marisa put an arm around Koishi. Did people usually feel this soft, or was that just a tonal trick? Hard to tell, with Koishi, but not too important.

"I don't know, either," said the Satori, answering the idle thought. And then, returning to the topic, "So even if you were a little bit afraid about Mima, or me meeting her…"

"Fear is something you meet headfirst, as fast as you can, right?" Marisa grinned, and felt recognition. Koishi remembered.

"So I can just come with you to see!"

"Nope!" Marisa grinned, and Koishi stopped.

"Nope? Oh…" She said, reading further into thought. "I _have_ to come with you to see."

"I'm not the one that really wants the apology, y'know." Marisa looked at the ceiling, smiling. "Not that it wouldn't be nice, before you go plundering all my precious secrets."

"What precious secrets?"

"Exactly!"

"Even if you think about how secret they are, that doesn't mean they're _there_." Koishi tilted her head, giving a slightly perplexed expression.

Marisa grinned. Koishi, surprisingly, sighed. "Oh. You're lying."

"Nope!" _Yep!_

And then, Koishi laughed. "Even to me!"

"Well, I know you can take it now."

"You'll make me sad!"

Marisa paused, and then realized she felt nothing of the sort. Koishi was… actually responding in kind.

"Yeah!"

And then, Marisa took a deep breath, and started laughing.

Koishi laughed with her, still holding on.

"You feel funny when you're laughing," said Koishi, finally catching her breath.

"Well, you're riiiight on top of where my lungs are, y'know." Marisa smiled, and then returned to the first topic herself. "So… when it comes to Mima, you're gonna have to talk to her, too."

Koishi's expression seemed to drop a little, and then… then she focused.

"I'm scared," she said. Marisa hugged her, but let her go on. "She was a very angry person, wasn't she?"

"I dunno about her life. But as a spirit," _and as my teacher,_ "she was, yeah."

"Anger's scary. I'm still scared to feel it." Koishi curled up more tightly.

"I know." Marisa smiled. "What happens when you face your fears like that?"

"They get less and less."

The two shared a moment of silence, and then Koishi relaxed. Marisa let go, feeling better herself – whatever little worries she'd been overthinking, Koishi had addressed them perfectly.

"I'm glad," said Koishi, again reading the thought. "It's… nice to have the same worries."

"They don't feel as stupid," Koishi said, and then, smiling, "not for either of us."

"Yeah." Marisa laid back, now a little tired. This was nice.

And then, she felt an odd little spark of joy. And then, she felt motion as Koishi hopped up from her relaxed position…

…and kissed her on the cheek.

…

…

…

When–how–

Marisa's thoughts were a jumble as they restarted.

 _How did she even think of that?_

Koishi was giggling uncontrollably, and also blushing. "You had the picture in your head earlier, even if you didn't realize!"

Marisa, now blushing and desperately trying to put her trains of thought back on track… started laughing.

And kept laughing for a while.

"Alright… ahahaha, alright, you got me," she said. Koishi seemed to be almost glowing, and her smile was infectious – she was ridiculously adorable, like this.

"I've never seen you so embarrassed!" said Koishi, bouncing into the air. "You're…" she paused, almost like she was searching for new words – and, as it turned, she was. "You're really cute!"

Okay, this was just humiliating.

...And, admittedly, also really nice.

"And now you're thinking of doing the same thing back, huh?" Koishi still seemed to be… well, tricks of the perception what they were, _literally_ be glowing with joy.

"S'that okay?" Marisa grinned, in spite of herself.

"Yeah!" Koishi hopped further into the air, landing back on the bed as she did.

Marisa leaned in, and kissed Koishi on the cheek, a mirror of earlier action. And, oddly, she felt the same burst of joy as before – there was no sense of whose it was.

It was, for that shared instant, a wonderful moment.

And then, Koishi had landed on Marisa again, still smiling. She was so soft…

"Hey, Marisa?"

"Yeah?" Marisa smiled.

"I'm really happy."

Marisa could feel it. "I am too."

"Yeah."

Koishi curled up, still radiating that quiet joy. Marisa couldn't help but feel the same way.

"I'm tired, too," the satori murmured.

"Yeah," Marisa said, smiling. "Me too."

Koishi's breathing began to take its tiny rhythm, again.

Time passed, and wordless moments blurred together. Thoughts became dreams... and the waking world began to fade.


	17. Chapter 17 - Changing Echoes

Koishi stirred, finding herself unsure what she'd been dreaming. It seemed to have been a quiet dream – just a series feelings and thoughts, not formed into any story or singular shape enough to remember in the waking world.

Quiet feelings, quiet thoughts, feelings and thoughts of…

Marisa was still asleep, and Koishi still felt warm inside. This was… a new feeling, one that she'd never understood before.

She wished that she had.

But that was okay. Life was still in front of her, and it was kind, now.

Koishi looked over to the sleeping witch, and smiled. Although "cute" was the word Koishi could hear, she didn't have the same sense of choice – whatever words people might choose to use, she just really liked how Marisa looked, right now.

She had a little frown of sorts – she didn't look all that comfortable in a fancy bed that wasn't her own. But, still, Koishi liked the look – she was curled up just a little, one arm around a pillow, one arm around a satori – oh, that was her. One arm around her.

Her head leaned a little to one side, and more importantly, her hair was a mess that Koishi really liked. Little golden streaks spilled out to the side, some over the pillow, some in Koishi's general direction. And, of course, some idle bangs had found their way across her face.

Really, Marisa's hair was just a giant mess while she slept, and Koishi adored it. The color, the softness, and of course, Marisa's faint expressions even as she slept – some faint grin or little frown, mirrored only by tiny feelings of dreams or unconscious sensation.

Koishi found herself pulling the black-white witch into a hug.

Marisa stirred a little. Koishi didn't worry.

And then, Koishi felt a second arm around her, and another warm feeling, this time from the waking Marisa.

"Hey…"

Koishi closed her eyes, smiling, and snuggled up. "Morning!"

Marisa was smiling, although Koishi's eyes couldn't see it. Last night seemed almost like a dream, but Koishi knew it was real.

It was a funny little sensation. People thought about dreams coming true all the time, but when any part of it happened, the moment was too nice to think about it.

"How're you?" asked Marisa, Rolling over to face Koishi. Koishi had opened her eyes to see Marisa again, but she didn't know when she had.

"I'm still happy. And I'm with you." Koishi didn't want to let go.

And that was just fine with Marisa. "That's a good feeling to have."

Marisa ran a hand through Koishi's hair, and ruffled it a little. It was nice; it felt soft. Almost everything Marisa did with Koishi felt soft, and she didn't know what that meant. She liked it.

 _Me too,_ thought Marisa. Marisa couldn't read Koishi's thoughts, but sometimes, she could read her feelings well enough to answer. _Feels like a dream, right?_

"Yeah."

Some moments passed in happy silence.

Finally, Koishi let Marisa go, starting to think about the day, and what fun was ahead of them. But first…

First, she gave into impulse again, and did as she had before – she moved with a path she didn't know, and kissed the love dressed in black and white on the cheek again.

It felt different from before – it wasn't such a surprise. Still, it was warm, and it was happy, and Marisa returned the kiss without hesitation. It was fast and unplanned, from shocking and nervous the night before to a simple repetition the night after.

But in these moments, fast or slow, now or before, it was a moment of joy. Koishi was happy, and she could feel Marisa's joy, too.

Odd feelings that they were, it was safe to explore them.

Marisa smiled, and seemed to read Koishi's mind to speak first. "I love you," she said, patting Koishi on the head.

"I love you too!" said Koishi. Right now, everything seemed to exist in a single, perfect, moment.

 _It doesn't fix things, and it doesn't make them go away later,_ thought Marisa, her smile seeming to grow a little. _But as a moment, it's wonderful._ "And so are you!"

Koishi was blushing, although she didn't mind that. "Thank you."

"No, thank _you_ ," said Marisa.

And then, after a moment of silence, the witch hopped out of bed. In that motion, her giant, golden mess of hair seemed all to fall into place.

It was, in a small, personal way, amazing to Koishi.

"Alright," said Marisa, her smile becoming her trademark grin. "What're we gonna do today?"

＊ ＊ ＊

Marisa watched Koishi wave to Satori and Orin – and Utsuho, who had come up from the furnace to say hi, as well – as she started to take flight.

"So," said Marisa, weaving a spell as she did. The wind was just so _loud_ in flight, without it. "Did you have anything in mind?"

Koishi answered without hesitation, looking focused, in her own, cute way. "I wanna go see Alice."

"Oh?" Marisa chuckled. "How come?"

"She's known you for a long time, right? And she seemed to like me. And she cares about you." Koishi shrugged, and for some reason, Marisa felt like that wasn't originally Koishi's motion. "Are you okay with that?"

"Hunting all my secrets down, eh?" Marisa grinned. "Yeah," she said, feeling a tiny bit of uncertainty from Koishi – and as such, opting not to lie – "that's fine. I think you might want to go alone, though."

Confusion. "No, I don't." And then, parsing. Thoughts being read – Marisa began to speak anyway.

"I think Alice would be a bit uncomfortable talking _that_ much about me while I'm right there. For all the games, she doesn't really _like_ embarrassing people that much. Even me, even if I'm okay with it.

"I gotta ask, though, why d'you wanna ask anyone else? I've got the whole story." Marisa was quietly excited, now – Koishi was thinking on her own, and she'd had a conclusion Marisa hadn't thought of.

"Other people see it differently. Everyone sees things differently, so I want to see it in all their different ways, too. And I can only _really_ see some parts." Memories, things that were distinct. "The rest, I can hear, but I can't feel it."

"Gathering info's never a bad idea," said Marisa, grinning. "I say go for it. Should I drop you off?"

Koishi hopped up on the broomstick, and right off it. She didn't stop flying along – inertia was no match for the strange, strange satori and her personal brand of so-called physics.

"Yeah!" Koishi said. Marisa loved that about her – as much as Koishi clearly loved the tiny moments of comfort and rest, she was always eager to run right into new discoveries.

"Alright, hang tight! Or don't even hang at all! Either way, _heeeeeere we go!_ "

＊ ＊ ＊

Alice Margatroid found herself surprised by knocking at her door. She suspected trouble – Marisa had knocked once or twice before to catch her off guard for some juvenile trap.

In fact, that was… pretty much the only explanation. Anyone else formal enough to knock didn't visit the woods. That was a great part of why Alice liked living here.

And so, dolls moved from their positions, sneaking out windows, some through string, some through magic; all in some strange combination thereof. And then, across the room, a single, heavier doll turned the doorknob, opening it to nobody, signaling a flank.

And then, Alice realized that she'd still made her way to the door to answer it herself, for… some reason.

"Hi!" said one Koishi Komeiji, waving. "It's okay," she added, looking at all the small, armed dolls surrounding her, "I know you thought it was Marisa."

Alice really, really wasn't sure what to think. No wonder Marisa loved the strange satori.

If it were just about anybody else, that would've been the cue to pull the trigger. But Koishi, innocent and, well, adorable as she was, didn't warrant that.

With many subtle motions – motions that, she noted, Koishi mimicked just a little – the many dolls returned to their positions around the house, awaiting another purpose at a later time.

And then, again, suspicion. "Wait."

"Waiting!" Koishi hopped forward into the air, floating backwards. If Alice paid any less attention, that strange, impossible motion would have felt natural. To Koishi, it probably did.

Every little action the odd satori took made it more and more obvious how Marisa could fall in love with her. And, of course, speaking of…

"Where's Marisa?"

Koishi tilted her head, still floating. "She didn't come with me," she said. From anyone else associated with Marisa, Alice would have assumed a lie.

But, again, Koishi. "Oh," said Alice, sighing. "Alright, then. What can I do for you?"

Alice pulled up a seat, and passed the usual step of offering one – Koishi had already mimicked a little of the motion, and then seemed to opt out of it.

"I wanted to ask you about Marisa," said Koishi.

"And she didn't come?" Alice raised an eyebrow. That seemed like the sort of gossip that Marisa would just love to hang around for, in her usual, obnoxious way. "Did you not tell her?"

"I did!" said Koishi, pulling up an invisible chair in the middle of the air. As far as unconscious miming went, it was a perfect act. "But she said I should come alone."

The satori went on. "She said you'd probably be a little uncomfortable, 'cause you don't _really_ like trying to embarrass people that much. Even her! So it'd be better if I went alone."

Alice paused, almost shocked. Years of friendship – and _many_ other things – had taught her that Marisa was quite a bit more observant than she let on. _Using_ that observational skill for consideration, however, was _very_ unusual. And, well, Marisa wasn't wrong, that _would_ have been awkward.

Koishi was one lucky Satori, if Marisa was willing to think even Alice's side through on a whim for her. And especially so, if Marisa had so simply chosen to prioritize the satori's learning and desires over causing that much discomfort to – well, to one of her favoured targets.

"I am!" said Koishi, jumping excitedly. "She's really nice to me."

And then, Koishi's eyes widened, and she clapped a hand over her mouth. "I'm sorry!" she said, now quieter. "I didn't mean to… to see that."

Alice, in spite of herself, smiled. "It's alright. Like I said the first time, you're harmless enough that even I won't mind. Thank you for considering it, though."

And then, Koishi seemed to lose her tension, and float to the floor. Did Alice feel a tinge of… relief? Odd.

"Well, I don't know just what you're looking for," Alice said, "but I'm happy enough to try. Is there anything in particular you wanted to ask?"

"Hmmm. I think if you remember something clearly, I can… _see_ it. Like… feelings and thoughts, I can see it like a dream." Koishi placed one hand on her chin, making an overexaggerated thinking pose.

It was, Alice had to admit, very cute.

"I know!" Koishi hopped up, once again flying in directions that made no sense. "You knew her old teacher, right?"

Alice frowned. "Yes… yes, I did."

"Oh. You didn't like her?" Koishi tilted her head. "I haven't seen enough, but…" Koishi trailed off. If Alice had to guess, Koishi hadn't been thrilled with whatever she'd heard – or seen, or whatever it was – of Mima.

"She was… unkind," said Alice, remembering the sharp mockery she tended to make of anyone she met. "She was powerful, and she taught Marisa quite a few things… but I haven't had the best experience with her, no."

"You met her, then," said Koishi, kicking one foot back and forth through the air.

"I fought her, yes. I was… well, I wasn't very strong, then." It wasn't a very pleasant experience.

"Mmm…" Koishi kept kicking at the air. "Did you see her and Marisa together a lot?"

"Sometimes, yes. Not that often – I would rather have avoided them, really, but some time after Mima gave me trouble, Marisa started showing up. And she was all kinds of trouble – she could be mean, she'd take my things, she'd show up without asking."

"Doesn't she do all that now?"

"It's a little different now. I've known her a long time, and although I'd never say it, she's careful enough not to do anything really upsetting." Alice sighed. "She drives me crazy, but she's a good friend."

"Did you love her?" Koishi asked, staring at nothing. Alice froze for a moment, and then responded before quite catching up.

"Did I _what?!"_

There was an awkward silence, and Koishi sank to the floor, again shrinking a little away.

"Sorry, you just felt like… you felt a little strange, talking about her back then. It's different from you talking about her now, and it feels like… there were a lot of feelings."

"Well, it's…" Alice took a moment to let her thoughts catch her feelings, and shook her head. "It's a long story. _Try_ not to ask questions about people's feelings. Thoughts are one thing, but it's just a little…" Alice stopped, looking at the fear in Koishi's expression, and her obvious posture. She… no, that wasn't a trick, she could _feel_ it just a little.

"People don't think about their feelings," Alice said, finally, idly bringing out a doll or two to play, watching as, even without expression to match, Koishi seemed to follow the movement. That much, Alice could do without thinking. "So it's even more of a surprise than when you read their mind. And then, they have to think about the question you asked, and from that, they have to recognize what they were feeling, and sometimes it's embarrassing, or why they were feeling it is embarrassing." Alice took a breath. "I'm not angry with you, alright?"

Koishi seemed to relax a little, growing back to her normal – still rather small – height. "Sorry. I didn't…"

"Also, it's romance, right?" Alice said. "If Marisa's explained that."

Koishi perked up. "Oh! She has. Ohhh…"

"Yeah. A question like that is… about as hard to answer, and as embarrassing as you get." Alice, in spite of herself, smiled. One of the idling dolls gave Koishi a pat on the head. "If you _really_ want to know that sort of thing... well, try to ask small questions, one at a time. Some people don't want to share everything."

Alice didn't, really. But with Koishi, it was no threat.

"Oh. Thanks," said Koishi, looking curiously at the doll. "I… it's still hard to understand, sometimes."

"Don't worry about it," said Alice. "And, well, you can ask Marisa about that question. Might even catch _her_ off guard." Alice smirked.

"Well… I was curious, because I love her," said Koishi. "So I was wondering if you knew anything."

"Hmm… I don't think I'd be much help. It was a while ago. Anyways, is there anything else?"

Koishi thought a moment, and then asked, "were you there when she left her teacher?"

Alice paused. "Ah, yes…" she smiled a little. "Yes, I was. And that… well, that was something. She was… well, she was less self-aware then, to put it bluntly."

Koishi was, once again, focused and excited. "What happened?"

"Well, it started with the usual…"

＊ ＊ ＊

Alice Margatroid sighed as she heard her door burst open. Marisa Kirisame and her obnoxious, chaotic habits hadn't been around for a bit, and for the most part, Alice had considered that a great blessing.

One that, of course, had to end sometime.

"Yo!" One Marisa Kirisame stood in the now open doorway, her obnoxious grin plastered to her face.

"What do you want?" Said Alice, not even bothering to keep looking.

"I'm stayin' over!" said Marisa.

"And _why_ would I want _you_ in my house?"

Alice, on the other hand, had already gone from derisive to reserved. Crazy as Marisa was, this was a little forward, and it was too quick a demand to really be her usual mockery.

"'cause I'm that irresistible, obviously!" Marisa walked in, still without any permission. "And 'cause you couldn't get rid of me if you tried!"

The witch looked a little worse for wear, by Alice's estimate. A little messier than usual – if that was possible, a little pale, slightly darker circles under her eyes than was often the case.

Even her trademark grin seemed… forced. Stuck, without its usual dynamic nature.

And, trained to see every little motion as she was, Alice realized that Marisa wasn't looking around at all – and she was _always_ looking for something interesting, so it could coincidentally disappear or get 'borrowed' later.

By Alice's estimate, something was wrong.

"Fine," she said, sighing. "Just don't take anything."

Marisa's grin wavered. "What?" she said, and then, pretending not to miss a beat, added, "you're just gonna let me walk all over you like that?"

"It's not worth my time," replied Alice, still holding a veneer of frustration over her concern.

"Well, suit yourself," said the Witch, shrugging as she walked in. And, to Alice's surprise, just walked past her.

The couch was, in fact, a relatively new addition to the house, and Marisa hadn't been looking for anything new. Still, it was obvious enough.

The witch dropped herself down on the couch, all without a word. Insane façade or not, Alice was now entirely certain that Marisa Kirisame, invincible and irritating as she usually seemed, was not okay. No extra trouble, a request that was serious behind her usual act, and… well, she just didn't look too great.

Alice, on the other hand, was unlike the witch; she had tact.

"How long am I stuck with you for?" She asked, still pretending at some irritation.

"Eh," said Marisa, facing away as she lay on the couch. "I'll be out by tomorrow."

There was some silence, and Alice considered her methods of approach.

"You don't have to be," Alice said, already starting to tend to the house. While a mess by her standards was clean by anyone else's, clutter still bothered her. "This house has enough space, and it's not hard to cook for two."

Both of them were silent for a while, and then, against all odds, Marisa said, "Thanks." The word sounded unnatural, coming from her.

As much as she should have enjoyed having the rare upper hand – Marisa was obviously vulnerable, for once – Alice found herself more concerned. This wasn't usual. It was less of a pain, sure, but… on the whole, it was worrying.

"Have you eaten?" she asked, almost entirely certain of the answer.

Marisa didn't give an answer, and Alice sighed. "I'll take that as a no."

There was a long silence, and the puppeteer didn't really want to break it. Still, this was going to be unbearable. "Well, I'm going to need to know how much food I'm going to get at the village, at least. And if you're a picky eater," she added.

"I can eat anything," Marisa said at last. It was supposed to sound nonchalant, Alice was certain, but at this point it all seemed off.

Well, "off" was an understatement.

"Sorry," said Marisa, still facing away on the couch. Alice held back her shock.

"Sorry?"

"I'm usually just borrowing your things," Marisa said, rolling onto her back. She was smiling, but again, she looked far more tired than she ever did. "Not loitering."

That, Alice thought, was enough of a related topic for Marisa to at least respect. "That's fine. I didn't think you'd be parting ways this soon, but I can take care of things for now."

The witch grimaced. "Parting ways, huh?"

"I don't know how long she's been teaching you," said Alice. "But if I had to guess, it seems like a long time."

"Whatever."

Alice sighed. "I'm not trying to make fun of you," she said. "I'm not Mima."

"Stop it." Marisa sat up, glaring at Alice. "I'm fine, alright?"

Alice smirked. "You do realize that you've taught me to recognize your obviously, impulsively absurd lies, right?"

"Ugh, don't…" Marisa shook her head.

"I'm not going to judge you just because you're having a hard time right now—"

"I _don't need_ your pity!" Marisa stood up, clenching one fist… and then sighed, losing her intensity just as quickly as she'd gained it.

"It's not pity," said Alice. She was, well… she was worried, mostly. Nothing Marisa said right now was going to get the better of her. "I wouldn't have lasted a day under her."

"Just… forget it." The witch slumped, and dropped herself back on the couch. "It's not important."

Alice didn't reply – Marisa's dignity, in day to day life, seemed mostly invulnerable. Right now… it was – _she_ was – very much the opposite. Instead, she moved on to the next practical topic.

"I'll just start dinner a little early. It's not helpful to starve yourself."

"You're not my mother," Marisa shot back. And then, she sighed, and muttered a curse under her breath.

If Alice had to guess, her mother wasn't exactly a happy memory either.

Suppressing a sigh, Alice instead looked to dinner preparations. Marisa was human, and if she wasn't going to take care of herself, it was probably helpful for someone else to, right now. And while Marisa could probably use a hand right now, she definitely wasn't open to the idea of taking anybody's help.

That, Alice thought, put all of Marisa's mockery in a slightly different light. For the most part, it was never that mean-spirited, but if she hated being vulnerable that much…

Well, Mima _was_ mean-spirited in more than a few ways.

The more Alice thought about it, the less it seemed like something she could live with in her house. It was… well, it was a kind of nonsensical Marisa didn't subscribe to. Alice had essentially deduced the situation on her own, and the witch's usual attitude was… well, broken. It wasn't an act that was hiding anything now.

And Marisa Kirisame in legitimate denial, to somebody who had known her and all the trouble she brought for this long – well, that was too much.

"Dinner will be about fifteen minutes," said Alice. "In the meantime, get off my couch."

"Eh?"

"Get up, and get off my couch," said Alice, shooting her best irritated expression Marisa's way.

Marisa, in turn, offered a grin, although it lacked its usual charisma. "I'm just borrowing it."

"And now you're giving it back," said Alice.

"Aw, c'mon, don't be like that."

And then, dolls armed themselves as they appeared from all over the house, and Alice smirked, in spite of herself. "Are you going to let me get the first shot in? That's not like you."

"Maybe I'm just—oh." Marisa was, in fact, already surrounded.

"The great Marisa Kirisame, letting her guard down in somebody else's house? Well, _now_ I know something's wrong. Did you even set a trap on the way in?"

There was a long silence. Alice, at this point, was now engaging on the witch's terms, and even then, it was out of place.

Alice went on. "So you didn't even set any traps on the way in, _and_ you didn't grab your Hakkero in time. So. Off the couch."

"Fiiine…" Marisa hopped up, stretching. "Whaddya need it for, anyway?"

"I don't," said Alice, frowning. "But you won't feel as bad about yourself if you're up and about a little."

"Don't act like you know me," said Marisa, once again tensing.

"You've been pestering me for years, Marisa." Alice crossed her arms. "I'm a puppeteer and a magician – I've been looking at all the tiny details for years, and I know when your routine just isn't cutting it.

"And right now, it's _really_ not cutting it. If you need some time to recover, or a place to stay, or both, that's fine, but I'm not going to have you sitting here getting _worse_ about it because you feel bad for looking weak in front of me."

Now, Alice was a little more nervous. Confronting people was always a gamble, and she usually avoided chances with a fervor that was… well, might be a little unhealthy.

"I told you, I'll be out by the morning, don't get all worried about it." Marisa straightened up a little, and her expression was still pained.

"Do you have anywhere _else_ to go right now?" Alice asked, and went on when Marisa hesitated. "From what _I_ understand, this was a gamble you took because you didn't have any other choice. And, of course, that makes it very, very obvious that you left your teacher.

"So if you could stop insulting my intelligence in such a humorless way and accept that you've just _lost_ this round, then maybe you could make this easier for both of us."

Alice met Marisa's gaze, and there was a long silence.

"Ugh," said Marisa. "Fine, fine, yeah…. I… yeah." And now, Alice felt bad, because Marisa looked like she wanted to cry, and that was just not a natural expression for her.

Or maybe it was, and it had been hidden for who knew how long.

"As you were saying, don't worry about it," said Alice. "As funny as it might be to get some kind of revenge on you, even _you_ don't like kicking people when they're down."

Alice waved a hand, still idly sending puppets off on their various duties with her other hand as she did. "Dinner's just about ready, at any rate."

"…Did they all prepare dinner while surrounding me? And while you were talking?"

"…Yes?" Alice raised an eyebrow. "You know how puppetry works."

"It's not the puppets, it's the multitasking," Marisa replied. "I mean, I know they don't move on their own."

Alice smiled. "Well, we're all got to be good at _something,_ I suppose."

＊ ＊ ＊

Koishi tilted her head, looking quite curious now. "I could see that," she said.

"See?" said Alice, smiling at the odd Satori. It was… an odd story to be recounting for anyone, but it seemed a safe time to do so, and it certainly had an appreciative audience.

"I can see how you remember it. I can hear Marisa then. And you then. You watch everything."

Alice kept her smile. "Puppetry takes a lot of attention on a large scale. You get used to keeping track of a lot of little things, even if they're not puppets."

"Marisa was… different, then." Koishi's gaze was almost tangible.

"Oh, definitely," said Alice, chuckling. "She's opened up quite a bit since then. Her pranks have gotten even more annoying and… well, I guess just more annoying."

"Less mean?" Koishi asked. Alice wasn't sure what was being read, and what the satori was thinking for herself.

"Well, less mean-spirited. She's really just making fun of people, now. She… didn't really like weakness, back then."

"Because Mima didn't."

"She never told me that much about Mima, honestly. But if you keep going like you are, I'm sure you'll get it out of her."

There was some silence, and then Koishi went on. "Did it make things different?"

"Hm? Did what?"

"Seeing Marisa like that." Koishi was looking downwards, now.

Alice thought for a moment, and then smiled. "That's very good for a first attempt at being tactful, really." _But I can see where you're going with that_.

"Oh. Is… that okay?" Koishi started to fidget with her third eye – which certainly looked a little odd.

"I'll let you know if it's not." Alice, for some reason, found herself feeling the urge to pat the little satori on the head. "Anyways, to answer your question… well, how about I just go on?"

"Yes!" Koishi hopped up, all apprehension and guilt gone from her expression and posture.

"Alright."

＊ ＊ ＊

"Feel any better?" Asked Alice, her tone a little sarcastic.

"I told you," said Marisa, finishing up… was that her fourth serving? How long had she not eaten _for? "_ You're not my mother."

"And who was?" said Alice, smirking. Even if she didn't hugely enjoy mocking Marisa in this way, somehow, that seemed more comfortable for the witch.

"Will you stop that?"

"Hmm?" Alice raised an eyebrow. "Stop what?"

"Asking all the wrong questions!" Marisa crossed her arms. "This isn't fair!"

"Well, I'm giving a thief a rare opportunity to come clean. AND not get executed for it." Alice kept her smirk. Quiet or reclusive as she might be, she wasn't witless. "What makes that a wrong question, anyway? Did you run away from home?"

Marisa visibly cringed. "…yeah, I did."

"Oh. Well, I'm sorry you brought it up, then." Alice chuckled, and Marisa shot her a glare. Oh, how the tables had turned.

After some silence, Alice spoke again. "Did you want to talk about it?"

"About what?"

"Any of it. Leaving Mima, your family, anything else – it's obvious it's pretty hard on you right now," she added.

"What about you?" Marisa shot back.

"Shinki cared for me for my life in Makai, and I was quite self-sufficient by the time I came here to find my own living place. And maybe you haven't noticed, but I don't have to deal with anyone much." Alice paused, and added, "Well, anyone but you.

"Either way, whatever's happened, you've had it far harder than I have. So, again, do you want to talk about it? I won't pry, if you really don't."

"I don't know," said Marisa, staring straight at Alice. It was an honest answer, and it was clearly hard to give. "But…" Marisa sighed. "Go ahead and pay attention, or say things. I… don't wanna be this weak for long."

"Mima doesn't seem like the kind to condone weakness, no," said Alice. "But if you're afraid of her reaction, then… well, it's not something to fear any more, if you've left her. Unless you might be g—"

"I'm _not_ going back." Marisa snapped. "Not after—not—damn it!"

"Reflexes take a while to die down. Don't talk if you—"

"Not after I already snapped at her and already told her I was leaving. You want weakness? How about _crawling right back_ after all of that!" Marisa was, well, shouting now. "I don't want your damn pity, who the hell _cares_ if this is hard for me if I can do it anyways?!"

"It's not a challenge, Marisa—"

"Shut UP! I just _left_ my teacher, I don't need you to _teach_ me how to get _pitied_ or some stupid bullshit like that!"

Alice took a step back. Mima didn't seem like she'd take disobedience, kindness was setting her off, and shouting back would inspire more of the same. Alice sighed. "This might make two idiots, but the answer is me."

"What? You _what_?"

"Care if it's difficult. After years of getting my stuff blown up and stolen, it's just not right to see you like this."

Marisa took a deep breath, and took a step back. "The hell do you think I _am?_ "

It was phrased like a challenge, but all the little signs – the trembling, the breathing, the little hints of desperation, seemed to indicate it was a legitimate question.

"Marisa Kirisame, the most annoying witch I've ever met. Or magician of any kind. And in Makai, that's actually a pretty high bar." Alice shrugged. "And obviously enough, you're a powerful magician in your own right."

With that, Marisa seemed to simmer down a little. "…Sorry," she said, and then, "thanks." She seemed to struggle with both of the words.

"Mima didn't like to hear those words, did she?"

Marisa winced. "No, she really didn't. Didn't want my 'pity' – guess that's where that comes from, huh – and just wanted me to try again instead of feeling bad."

"Well, I'm not trying to teach you anything, and I don't really mind the apologies." Alice smiled. "Except for how weird anything considerate is, coming from you."

Marisa shot a half-hearted grin back. "Don't you get all worried about it, I'll be blowing parts of the roof off soon enough, alright?"

"I know it'd be too much to ask that my house be in one piece for too long," said Alice. In this case, she was mostly glad for any semblance of a normal Marisa.

"Hey," said Marisa. "I'm gonna crash for now. I'm stealing the couch again."

"Alright," said Alice. "Rest well, if you can."

＊ ＊ ＊

"Are you alright?" said Alice, stopping for a moment. "That's probably enough for today, anyways; I need to head down to the village today."

"I don't like seeing Marisa like that," said Koishi, kicking at the air again. "Even if it's not the same as the Marisa I know."

Alice smiled. "Well, I didn't, either. That's the point."

"Um…" Koishi floated low, still kicking at the air uncomfortably.

"Yes?"

"Umm…"

"It's about your first question?"

"Yeah…" Koishi landed, still not making eye contact.

Alice sighed. "Try not to talk about anyone else about this, okay?"

Koishi nodded. "Even Marisa?"

"Marisa's fine, she'd know about it, of course."

"So…" Koishi looked up.

"The answer is yes, I did love her, at some point," said Alice, feeling vaguely uncomfortable, but also finding herself willing to accept that. Koishi seemed to have that effect, somehow, and one had to wonder how much of Marisa's fault that was. "Well, whatever that means, exactly."

Koishi tilted her head at the thought of Marisa, but didn't say anything, and Alice went on.

"It didn't go much of anywhere, and that's fine. I don't need somebody who's running off causing chaos every day to drag me around," Alice added. "And she doesn't need somebody who really doesn't like people holding her back."

"…is that okay?" Koishi asked, still looking apprehensive.

Alice smiled. "You're not like that, and it was all a long time ago. So, yes, it's okay."

"Can we finish the story later? I still wanna see how Marisa was."

"Of course," said Alice. "You're welcome to come by whenever you want. I'm usually home", she added. "And, since you're probably wondering, yes, you'll get a better answer to your question later."

"Okay. Thanks!" Koishi hopped into the air, and then Alice realized that Koishi had already gone, having retroactively said goodbye.

If not for Marisa, it would have been a little disturbing.

＊ ＊ ＊

Koishi stopped just in front of Marisa's house, and then realized that there wasn't too much of a front to stop short of.

She wasn't too sure, but it seemed unusually broken, even for Marisa's house. A little less than half of the house was either gone or on fire.

"Yeah… so uh… remember the mushrooms? A few things lined up reeeeaaaal nicely." Marisa's voice came through some of the odd, colored smoke that was drifting from the house.

"Like what?" Marisa didn't seem worried, so Koishi had decided this was mostly funny.

"Well, the mushrooms age better than I thought, and some of the things I'd been working on turned out to be reactive, and in high magic concentrations – liiiike my house – a couple of my other reagents dissolve a little, which is fine if they don't—"

Marisa carefully sidestepped a chunk of charred house. "—react with a _new_ , _extra strength_ mixture." She grinned. "So… uh… this one might take a bit to fix. There's a magical fire that doesn't need air and doesn't interact with water in there, too." The witch gave her signature grin, seeming to say that she was – at worst – excited about a fire that wouldn't go out.

Koishi giggled. "I bet Patchouli'd be happy about that!"

"Oh, her books are fine. I mean, maybe a liiiittle bit dusty. But they're protected." Marisa laughed. "Alright, this one might take some time. Do you wanna watch? Or maybe help a bit. I dunno how, but you can try!"

"Yeah!" Koishi hopped into the air, and then, on Marisa's reflex, side-stepped another falling chunk of house.

"Man, okay, _that_ one we gotta stop." Marisa hopped onto her broom, and rushed into the danger zone. And, of course, Koishi just had to follow.

＊ ＊ ＊

Marisa laid back in her bed, looking up at the sky… through a gaping hole in the roof. "Y'know, with the smoke clear, the stars are kinda pretty."

"Yeah!" Koishi said, currently lying beside Marisa. She'd always liked the pretty little things.

"Now, I'm ninety-five percent sure that if it rains, the wards should keep us dry instead of trying to dry out all the clouds above, so I think I can try to fix the rest of this tomorrow."

Marisa sighed. "I hate when this happens; if it blows off a wall _and_ a ceiling, you need much more _careful_ magic to fix it up." The word 'careful' was said with a disgust that Koishi could feel was genuine.

"Maybe you could ask Alice for help. She built her own house really neatly!"

Marisa started to laugh hysterically. "Just _what_ did you two wind up talking about?"

"You!" said Koishi, knowing this was relatively obvious. "She told me a story, and I could see it."

"See it, huh? Like with the dreams?" Marisa wrapped an arm around Koishi. It was nice – it was soft, and it felt safe. It always did.

Koishi shifted onto her side, hugging Marisa. It was really nice, to have this comfort, even while tired. Especially while tired.

It made Koishi happy.

"Yeah," she answered, still attached to Marisa. "I could see how she remembered it, almost like I was there."

Marisa smiled. "What kinda story was it?"

"It was after you left Mima," said Koishi. "I asked if she was there when you left your teacher."

A little bit of embarrassment, but it was only in the feelings; it didn't reach Marisa's thoughts. "Not the best time of my life," she added, grinning a little sheepishly.

"You were a lot different then," said Koishi. "You felt a lot different."

"I didn't want to be weak," said Marisa. "Mima really didn't like it. She's… well, she wasn't a ghost for a happy reason."

"Why was she?" Koishi tried to ignore her third eye, for a moment. She wanted to hear Marisa's voice, for some reason – hear it by her choice.

Marisa shrugged, "she was a mage in life, like she was as a spirit. Not nearly as strong. She died for it."

Koishi could sense the ripples of feeling, see the little trains of thought in Marisa's head. It wasn't an accident.

"Her village gathered up and hung her. She came back for vengeance. Dunno if she got it, or if she even came back in time to. But by the time she found me—" _and I found her,_ "she was really strong. Even if she couldn't beat Reimu. Nobody can, if she's, uh…" _In a bad mood. One hundred percent done. Had enough for today._

Koishi tilted her head. "Is Reimu _that_ bad when—"

"Yes." Marisa grinned. "Yes she is!"

Koishi saw images of countless seals – amulets on all sides, strange gaps and barriers – all of them seemed all but inescapable. "Oh."

"But yeah. She wasn't a happy spirit." _I think she wanted me to be her revenge, kinda. 'cause I was a kid who loved magic, and everyone else was scared of it._

"I never wanted revenge," said Koishi. "I lived…"

The idea that Mima's life could have been Marisa's drifted through Koishi's thoughts, and it hurt. A lot of little things about this truth hurt. It wasn't fair.

No wonder Mima seemed so angry. It wasn't a kind of anger Koishi would ever have – maybe for other people, but even towards the people that had…

Koishi inhaled, and focused. She didn't want to run, or block things out. Not now, not here, not with Marisa. "People tried to kill me, too," Koishi said, refusing to mince words or drift away.

"Yeah," said Marisa. "People can be terrible."

"Marisa," said Koishi, now hugging her more tightly.

"Yeah?"

"I don't want you to die." Koishi buried herself in the folds of Marisa's outfit. "Not like that. Not at all."

Warmth, softness. Koishi could feel Marisa's smile, without looking. "I dunno if I'll be alive forever," she said, "being human and all that. Maybe I'll find a way. But either way," Marisa's hug tightened, just like Koishi's had. It was stronger, but it was still soft. "I'll be around for a long time."

Strange, happy feelings. New, and exciting in different ways than the world itself was.

"Marisa?" Koishi was getting sleepy, now.

"I love you too," said Marisa, smiling. It was a little funny, Koishi could feel.

And then, Koishi realized she hadn't said anything. "Hey," she said. "I thought I was the only one that did that…"

Marisa laughed. "You think I'm not learning from you?"

For some reason, Koishi really liked the concept of teaching Marisa something. Why… well, she was sleepy, now. She'd try and understand later.

Still hanging onto Marisa, the satori let her consciousness drift, and allowed her quiet joy to color a fading world.


	18. Chapter 18 - Pathless Truths

Marisa Kirisame was in darkness. Little sensations, tiny objects from life, brief streaks of color made themselves known within her perception.

Where was she?

Marisa Kirisame attempted to remember…

 _And amidst weak sensations without order, memory alone was enough to break the dream._

 _ᅟ_

Marisa woke in bed, and found that she still didn't feel well. Frustration, fear, upset – she could feel all of them now.. They weren't incredibly strong, but they were still distinct.

Nothing that she could recall was upsetting her directly, so those feelings could only mean one thing.

She looked to Koishi, who had curled up facing away from Marisa – which was quite unusual, for the satori – and reached over to wake her.

"Hey," said Marisa softly, shaking Koishi as she slept.

Koishi stirred, and then jumped awake with a small shout. She looked around, wide-eyed, and met Marisa's gaze.

And then, her features seemed to droop a little, and she pulled Marisa into a tight hug, hiding her face.

"Bad dream?" said Marisa, her mind past concern now, and onto comfort.

"Yeah," said Koishi. She was shaking a little. "People hated me again," she said, and then added, "and they hated you 'cause of it."

 _I'd fight 'em all over it,_ thought Marisa, but she suppressed it as best she could. That wasn't what Koishi would want.

So instead, she held Koishi. "The dream's over, now. I'm here. Gensokyo's fine." She spoke softly, counting the satori's breaths. It was an odd, familiar rhythm.

"Yeah," said Koishi, holding onto Marisa tightly. "I know."

Silence. And then, Koishi spoke again. "Can I stay with for you a little?"

"I'll be awake a bit, yeah," said Marisa. "Are you okay?"

"It's scary and it hurts," said Koishi. "I'll be okay," she added.

"Alright. I'm here," said Marisa again, still holding Koishi.

"Let's see Mima again," said Koishi. "I know I'm scared. But I'm… I feel scared. I'm not."

Marisa smiled, once again setting aside her own concerns. Koishi was as brave as ever, and she didn't plan to interfere. "Well, I'm gonna get back to sleep," she said. "But that's how this has been working so far, yeah?"

"Yeah." Koishi curled up in Marisa's arms.

"G'night again, Koishi," she said, and then laid back, letting fatigue catch up with her.

＊ ＊ ＊

Marisa stumbled, still holding her hands forward. She was trying to focus, trying to call forth more of what she had before, but it just wasn't happening. She couldn't keep her focus, couldn't establish any feeling or sense of control.

Mima was watching. Marisa, against her better judgment, spared a glance the ghost's way, and found more of a lack of expression than anything else; It was, at the least, better than scorn.

She tried a couple more times, getting more frustrated each time, and then fell to her knees with a heavy sigh. "I… don't know why I can't do it. I could. I did."

And then, Mima smiled, although it was hard to read. "Marisa Kirisame," she said, starting loudly and formally.

Marisa waited. As before, she wasn't sure what to expect.

"…when did you last eat? Sleep?" Mima's smirk was now unreadable.

Marisa froze. She hadn't slept since she had run from home, and she hadn't taken much food with her. Realizing this, she quite distinctly failed to answer the spirit.

"You are quite human, I'm afraid," said Mima. "Without rest or sustenance, you won't last long."

"…oh," said Marisa, finally. In light of the circumstances, this was uniquely embarrassing.

"First…" Mima weaved a spell, and countless tiny lines of magical focus traced themselves around a small area on the ground. Images of places elsewhere seemed to flash, and the entire area brightened for a brief moment, before all the magic then faded, leaving a simple meal, utensils and all, in front of Marisa.

Marisa stared at it.

"Meals made purely from magic are of little use to a human body," she said. "This is summoned, not created."

"Thanks," Marisa said, digging in with little hesitation. She might have managed to forget it for some time, but she was still starving.

"After this, you will rest. Tomorrow, we may train properly."

Marisa nodded. "Yes…" – yes what? Calling the ghost by name seemed… wrong. Keeping her nameless seemed impossible. "Yes, master," she settled on. She was still a child, and it was an accurate title.

Mima raised an eyebrow, but offered no comment. "Very well," she said, and then vanished from view. Marisa, having eaten in… well, she hadn't really paid attention, but the food was gone quickly. Either way, rest seemed… well, it seemed like it'd be useful, now.

The ground seemed oddly soft. Marisa chalked it up to the effects of a spell, and looked up. She'd never really seen the stars at night, not for any real length of time. Nobody liked it when she was out late – they always said it wasn't safe.

If she wasn't safe now, it was at least hard to imagine what would pose a threat to Mima.

The stars were beautiful, to the girl who had barely seen them before. Countless little pieces of light in a sky dark enough for each to twinkle, some immeasurable distance away.

Marisa wondered if she could make something just like them, one day. Not yet, not soon, even, but eventually. Whatever path she had now chosen…

The girl sighed, looking to the stars, still. She missed the comforts of home, familiar as they were, and she resented it. She had left her former home quite decisively, and she knew, now, that she was never going back.

She hated it. She hated the weakness she felt, the fear, the fatigue that seemed to drag her back towards wanting the familiar.

"Are you uncomfortable?"

Mima's voice, was, as ever, cold, but the question was not.

"No," said Marisa, a little softly. She still didn't know what to think of her new teacher. "I'm just…" she trailed off. She just missed home, in some ways. Even if she was never going back.

"You will learn to leave behind the life you lived before," said the ghost, looking into the distance. "To you, Marisa Kirisame, there is too much ahead to learn… and, perhaps, to enjoy."

Marisa nodded. She was really, really tired. And then, being as tired as she was, she asked her question without hesitation. "Did you _make_ the ground soft?"

"It was an easy accommodation for a human such as yourself. Do you require more?"

"No, it's nice," said Marisa. "I never got to see the stars before. Mom and dad hated it if I was out at night. They said it wasn't safe."

"It is not," said Mima. She seemed to stiffen a little at the mention of Marisa's parents, but said nothing of it. "But I will teach you to fear nothing – in these darkened nights, you will be more dangerous than any idle threat in the darkness."

It was foreboding. It was… promising. Marisa, who had seen her only hopes stepped on in incomprehensible anger and spite far too many times, couldn't help but hope it was true.

She didn't want revenge, but… she wanted to break away. And she wanted to learn, to learn what was lost to the quiet, scared lives of ordinary humans, what had been an unspeakable, unknowable truth of times before.

Magic was limitless, and Marisa hated the limits that had always been placed upon her.

Mima sighed. "If you are still tired tomorrow, then it is simply a waste of my – of _our_ time. Sleep, Marisa Kirisame."

Marisa noticed a faint glow around Mima. It was… a silent spell? She didn't know those were possible.

And then, the world seemed to blur and spin, and sleep overtook the aspiring witch.

＊ ＊ ＊

Marisa woke from memories of sleep, and… felt a little melancholy. It was something she had always known, how far she'd come, but…

She had been numbed to all these feelings and vulnerabilities a long time ago, if she hadn't lost them entirely. And in light of that, it was a strange time to relive, in dream or otherwise.

She looked over to Koishi, who was awake, although she was still lying still on Marisa.

Koishi spoke, more quietly than usual, for her. "It's… weird."

"Eh?"

"You…" Marisa could feel the odd mix of sensations, of little emotional reflections, of a Koishi that existed not long ago. "You're a lot different now, but you can still feel like you were, back then."

"Yeah," said the witch, smiling at Koishi. "I was sort of like you, then – I just got away from everything, and I had everything to learn. Mima… saw a lot of things in me, I think. She saw her own life, at first, and she saw a promising talent for magic, but…" _You can't put that much into somebody and not start getting things back_.

"She cared about you a lot," said Koishi. "She hurt you, too."

"She was a ghost that had returned to life for vengeance." Marisa looked through her shattered roof; it was morning, now, and the stars she remembered weren't there now.

"She didn't know how to care. And she was angry." For the first time in… well, a long time, Marisa really did wonder what had happened to Mima since she'd left.

And, in turn, realized how much it'd really hurt if she had disappeared without a chance to really say goodbye.

She felt the soft pressure of Koishi hugging her. "I'm alright, I'm alright," she said, smiling.

"You're weak," said Koishi. From anyone else, that would have been an insult. "You weren't ready for all of this."

Marisa grinned; Koishi was right. "And that's just fine, you. If I was _ready_ , this wouldn't be any fun! And besides," Marisa added. "I coulda just said no when you asked if I didn't want to do this."

Koishi smiled, but held on, listening to Marisa. Marisa, in turn, could feel curiosity – care and curiosity. A desire for Marisa to feel less pain, and a desire to know more of why she felt any.

Marisa was, of course, more than happy to oblige.

"I got in the way of her revenge, you know. She thought that I'd _be_ her revenge, and I stopped it instead. I guess it wasn't exactly her revenge, but… eh, she wasn't too happy about it."

"What happened?" said Koishi. "Why?"

"Death just isn't my thing," said Marisa, grinning. "If you repay it in kind without even thinking, it'll never stop. And I mean, I guess if you're the right two people, that's not so bad."

"Kaguya and Mokou?" said Koishi, reading thought.

"Yeah, completely immortal. Can't do a thing to 'em that sticks; they die, they reincarnate good as new." _And man, have I tried to make things stick._

Koishi giggled, and seemed to relax a little. Marisa had to admit – the worry, for all it made her feel bad, was an adorable expression as Koishi wore it.

Then again, what wasn't?

Koishi smiled at the thoughts. "What did you do, though?" She asked, her expression falling back to a pointed focus.

"Hmm…" Marisa realized that, oddly enough, she didn't want to tell that story now, and then started to think about why.

It wasn't actually a hard answer. She'd run from Mima, and although she'd moved on, she'd never really faced the problems that had lead to that break. And now, reliving each memory, she was beginning to remember feelings that hadn't been stirred in years.

And she wanted that, more than she wanted to just tell an interesting story. She wanted to feel it again, knowing that at this point, she was set on going back to face it once again.

"Okay," said Koishi, who had followed Marisa's train of thought. And then, she smiled, and Marisa felt an odd warmth. "Thanks!"

"Thanks?" Marisa raised an eyebrow.

"'cause I can help!" Koishi bounced into the air, smiling. "Because you helped me so much, and you keep helping, and now you're letting me help you too!" Koishi paused for a moment, and then went on, looking at Marisa. "Even if it's chance, or even if this is what you want and doesn't have anything to do with me, or if any other of those little thoughts in your head mean something like that," said Koishi, "since I can't read them all at once. I'm still thankful! I'm still happy."

Marisa was almost stunned, but she was Marisa Kirisame. And instead, she grinned. "Who _wouldn't_ help you? You've got so much to give back!"

And then, she buckled a little as a floating Koishi fell from the air to tackle her in one overwhelming hug.

She then proceeded to buckle a little more, crashing to the floor. It was entirely worth it.

Marisa laughed, and Koishi giggled. Times like this, the feelings Koishi shared were a uniquely amazing gift.

Koishi flopped on top of Marisa, on the ground. "I love you," she said, her smile as wide as it could be.

Unable to resist the urge, Marisa kissed the satori on the cheek, mirroring her smile. It was contagious.

"I love you too!"

Koishi once again drifted into the air, and Marisa stood, brushing herself off. "So… anywhere you wanna go today?"

Koishi thought about this for a little, "I wanna talk to Alice again. We didn't get the whole story," said Koishi. "But I want you to come, too. Because you'll remember, too. I'll ask her if it's okay."

"But she's the one who's gonna tell the story," said Marisa, grinning. "What if she lies about it?"

"She doesn't lie much," said Koishi. "She doesn't meet people too much, right?"

"A total shut-in, that's Alice!" Marisa held her grin, falling back on old habits – namely, making fun of Alice was always, _always_ a classic.

"I'd know, anyways," said Koishi, waving an arm back and forth. "But I want to see if I can see differently when you're there, too!"

Marisa took a moment to look at Koishi, and considered the offer. It seemed fun enough, and she was certainly interested. But… well, she wasn't Alice.

"It's gonna be up to Alice," said Marisa. "But if you can convince her, of course I'm in!"

"Okay!" said Koishi, floating in the face of trivialities like physics, or gravity. "Oh, she told me to ask you, because I asked her, and it made her uncomfortable when I did…"

Marisa felt some pangs of guilt. They definitely weren't hers. "Well, what's the question?"

"Did Alice love you?" Koishi looked right at Marisa, and now it was quite obvious whose guilt it was.

Marisa _almost_ missed a beat, because that question really _was_ out of left field. And she'd asked _Alice_ that?

If it hadn't already turned out alright, Marisa would have been pretty nervous about it.

"Did you love her?" Koishi seemed less nervous about this one, although Marisa still found herself a little unprepared for the question.

Still, she was Marisa Kirisame, and especially when it came to Alice, she wasn't going to miss a beat over something like this. "Yep, and yep! Didn't turn out too great, but it sure happened."

There was no feeling of jealousy, no anxiety or fear of loss from Koishi. It was, for her, entirely a matter of curiosity. That… was pretty nice. Not that Marisa had really ever had much issue with jealousy herself, or been involved with anybody who did, but… well, even for somebody handling it well, Koishi was exceptional. It wouldn't even occur to her that one would respond with any of those feelings.

"Yeah!" said Koishi, reading Marisa's internal dialogue as she drifted through the air. "And you're okay now, right?"

"Yep!" Marisa grinned. "It wasn't that messy, really. Alice has always been pretty good about that kinda thing."

Koishi tilted her head. "You weren't?"

Marisa shrugged. "Well, you'll see, right?"

"Oh." Koishi paused. "Yeah. Marisa back then was a lot different. Not all different, though."

"Yep," said Marisa, still grinning. "Ready to go, then?"

Koishi hopped into the air, despite already being there. "Yeah!" she said, and Marisa could feel her odd excitement once again.

Marisa, on the other hand, was just a little nervous, although she couldn't quite place her finger on why.

Nerves, however, couldn't stop Marisa Kirisame. "Let's go!"

＊ ＊ ＊

Alice, remembering the last time, responded to the knocking at her door in a much more well-adjusted fashion. This time, she was careful not to repeat the previous near-accident - even if Koishi hadn't found it slightly impressive, Alice always found major missteps in judgement to be rather embarrasing.

Of course, as she opened her door, she found Marisa in the doorway. Winning, it seemed, was not in the cards for today.

"What, no defense at all?" Marisa was already wearing her signature, smug, obnoxious grin.

"Ah yes, the great Marisa Kirisame, hiding traps behind her loved ones," said Alice, rolling her eyes. "Why are _you_ here?"

"I asked!" said Koishi. Alice could feel a little uncertainty, and she had no reason to – she was almost positive, now, that Koishi could share her emotions, to some extent. The extent of that ability was probably a matter of the satori's comfort with another, as Marisa seemed to respond to the odd satori all but instantly.

Turning to Koishi, Alice raised one eyebrow.

"It really was my idea!" She floated into the air a little, but she was hesitant. "I wanted to have Marisa here, because she'd remember too, and I want to see it from everyone's view. I just… I want to know what it's like, because…" Koishi paused, and Alice could almost feel her _think_.

"Because nobody can feel all of the ways to see one situation… except… maybe I could, like this. I want to see what Marisa looked like to you, _and_ what she was feeling."

For what was probably the first time in all of known history, Alice glanced at Marisa, and received a matching, uncomfortable look in response. Marisa, of course, was grinning at it within the second, however, and Alice rolled her eyes.

Koishi, on the other hand… was a little too hard to refuse. And if nothing else, even Marisa seemed a bit weirded out by this, as much as that was actually possible. "Well, if you insist," she said, offering a smile to Koishi. "I'll stop if it's too much, don't worry about it."

Koishi tilted her head, but smiled. She was excited, Alice could tell. She could once again feel it, just a little.

"Now then!" Said Alice, beckoning the odd duo inside. "Where were we…"

＊ ＊ ＊

Marisa was… sore, and still tired, even though she'd just slept. That… was a little new. New and unpleasant.

She hadn't slept inside since… well, since her first home, and it felt frustratingly unnatural, now. Some of her feelings seemed like they were claiming she'd regressed, that she'd gotten weak, all because of the simple reminder of what it was like to sleep inside.

But if she was weak and disgraceful now, it would be _utterly_ weak to crawl back to the person she ran from. She was already such a mess that Alice would rather give her pity—no, Marisa stopped herself short of that conclusion. Everything was so annoying right now.

Why was she so _pathetic_ now? Was she so completely weak that this was what she was, once she was on her own? Mima wouldn't even bother laughing at it. She'd probably just leave on her own, because this would be more stupidity than she could stand. Her parents would…

She hadn't known those assholes for years, now – she didn't give a damn what they'd think.

But why didn't Alice resent it? It's not like Marisa hadn't made fun of her before. Was it… did keeping it as a joke _work_? Or was Alice…

Why would you give this much to somebody who'd just bothered you the whole time? What was she _playing_ at? It was so confusing, and worse yet, it was almost comforting.

Marisa hated it. She hated this, and she hated just about everything in her life right now. She was a stupid, weak mess, and she had nowhere to go back to, no safety net that would let her undo her mistake.

And she wouldn't undo it, even if she did. This was _her choice_. She'd left everything behind once, and now, she'd done it again. She wasn't going to be caged, held back by judgement and aspersions of failure.

Mima had given her much with no specific demand in return. And Marisa, despite everything, had been free to leave. But Mima had been demanding – harsh, unmoving, and certain in her ways.

Alice was offering something for nothing, and accommodating all of Marisa's… weaknesses… while she did so. And to Marisa Kirisame, with the life she'd lived, this didn't make any sense.

"Good morning," said Alice, walking by. "Did you sleep alright?"

Alice knew the answer to that question, of course – she could see the dark circles under Marisa's eyes – but it was a formality, and right now, any little prompt for Marisa to be a little more… well, open was useful to her.

"No," said Marisa, although she tried to play it off. She still hated these feelings, still hated being weak in front of somebody who knew her. Well, hated being weak at all. "Haven't slept inside for years!"

"Since you left your parents, I presume?" Alice took her gamble. Marisa, if she had to guess, was still more comfortable with the pressure and upfront pushing – she'd always been confrontational and difficult, and gentler kindness seemed to confuse her at best, and enrage her at worst.

She was right, however. Marisa could feel the sting of exposure, the painful reminder that her weaknesses were open right now, but Alice wasn't pitying her or looking down on her. She was pushing buttons and prying, but… well, it wasn't like Marisa couldn't leave if she wanted. She'd slept with nothing before. It was something that was a little more give and take, a little more demanding.

For Marisa, it was more comfortable. Was Alice doing that on purpose?

Marisa sighed. To be honest, she didn't know what was acceptable at all. Maybe this was fine, outside of Mima. She wasn't even close to stupid enough to think that anybody else's life was like hers.

"Yeah, pretty much. The stars are nice, and there's spells for it if you can't sleep on the ground." Was it _okay_ to talk about yourself this much? Mima hadn't been much for conversation, Reimu didn't seem to care, and Marisa didn't acquaint herself too much with anyone else.

This was all confusing. She felt like a complete novice again, because none of the magic she'd spent so much effort learning meant anything here.

But Alice, in turn, could read Marisa. The witch, chaotic as she always was, didn't have even a bit of practice hiding any of her expressions once that guise was broken. Whether Marisa wanted these feelings to be open game on some level was… still unclear. She responded badly to respectful distance, at the least.

It was impossible, however, to just let things sit like this. Marisa was unwell, not doing anything, and that was... well, she had quite a presence, and the weight of that presence didn't just disappear because she was down on herself.

Marisa, on the other hand, was already getting fed up. The thought of just talking openly about all the various, upset emotions running around had occurred to her. I mean, what was the worst case? Why did she _care_ what anyone thought of her? She'd spent how long flying in tradition's face! The village was all but terrified of her, at this point.

Did she care what Alice thought? Alice was just somebody she made fun of.

A lot. On a regular basis. That put up with her. And was now letting her just leech off her.

…Alright, apparently that… mattered?

More disgustingly, it… came down to a matter of fear. Marisa Kirisame would survive anything the world threw at her. She'd done it before, and now she was a powerful magician in her own right – or… was she? Damn it, everything was full of doubt now.

But was she _afraid_ of what would happen if she talked openly? Mima probably already saw her as weak, or a failure – she'd already slammed that door shut and run right onward with her life. So… ugh.

Marisa hopped off the couch. Was she even a magician? It's not like she had 'completed' her training. Was she any better off than before? It's not like she knew the first thing about living practically. Was she even slightly, well, cool? Well, she sure as hell wasn't right now.

And then, Marisa sighed. She _was_ afraid of opening up, of what it would do to her aspirations. She was supposed to be an invincible magician who couldn't care less. A prodigy, above all the rest.

Now without a teacher.

Alice turned to look as Marisa stood up. "Well, feeling any better than yesterday?"

"No," said Marisa. "Still stupid, still weak."

"I don't think you're either," said Alice. She meant it. Marisa could be annoying, and she could certainly be _quite_ a handful, but she wasn't unintelligent, and she was resilient, even if she was hurting now. "What's the matter?"

Marisa gritted her teeth, but ignored her impulse. Shouting just 'cause she thought Alice was pitying her seemed stupider every time she did it.

"I don't know what I am now," said Marisa, slouching. "I had one teacher, no parents, and nothing else. Now I have no teacher. I don't have anything to compare myself to – and I'm pretty much a failure as a student, since I ran away."

Alice was… surprised to see Marisa open up so quickly. But she was also listening. In spite of their history, she didn't have much reason to look down on Marisa.

Besides, Marisa Kirisame was nothing if not confrontational. Being trapped by her own scars didn't seem like something that could last for long, one way or another.

"And now I'm just… leeching off of you. I don't know what I'm doing. I already feel more stupid for opening my mouth." Marisa sighed, and paced.

"I'd say you're a lot less stupid," said Alice, still watching as carefully as ever. "It gets through things a lot quicker than sitting there saying and doing nothing all day," she added. "And by any metric I'm aware of, coming from Makai, you're quite an accomplished magician, even if you've never finished any official teaching."

Marisa paused. She wasn't sure what to think. Mima had always implied – or sometimes, said – that she had a great talent for magic. But… it was never the result that mattered, it was just that potential. She was always pushing, and that talent was just an implication that there was farther yet to go. And magic was limitless – there always _was_.

But Alice was just… evaluating what she was, now. Not what she could do in the future, not what would be a waste of her talent or potential – she was simply describing the Marisa Kirisame that she saw.

"You pick things up in the blink of an eye, have shown a capability for almost any kind of magic – nearly unheard of, to be honest – and despite how hard you try to look like you don't care at all, you work harder at your spells than any mage I've ever known. Talented, versatile, hard-working, and always looking for new ways to approach magic – I can't really imagine any magician who wouldn't consider you among the more accomplished. And as a _human_? At your age?

"There's not a person out there like you, Marisa." Alice said, still focused.

Marisa, on the other hand, was… stunned. Nobody had ever taken her measure in this way, let alone taken such a positive conclusion from it. And Alice was, in her own right, a magician. Makai was a place of magic. She'd been there almost casually.

She'd come _so far_ from where she began, without realizing. And now, a lifelong practitioner had told her that…

When she left home, she'd… wanted to learn. She was just a human, always out of place, always a little ridiculous, always focused on the next step. Had she just… what had she _done_ along the way? Where _was_ she now?

Were those tears? Was she _crying_?

"Marisa?" Alice paused. She hadn't really expected her own opinion to mean much – it was relatively obvious to any magician with a pair of eyes, and it wasn't as if Marisa hadn't been playing the act of the egotistical prodigy for years, now.

But apparently, the act and the reality were very, very different.

"It's nothing," said Marisa, but it was a weak denial. "Hey, I'm gonna… I'm gonna go. I'll be back." Her voice cracked a little. She wasn't ready for that at _all_.

Alice didn't have time to respond, let alone ask any questions – Marisa was off, broomstick and all.

Well, she did say she'd be back.

Alice sighed. She would've at least liked to know whether the next meal was for two… but erring on the side of caution, she decided to prepare for it anyways.

＊ ＊ ＊

Koishi paused as Alice left off in her story. It was… weird. Marisa… looked uncomfortable still. She _felt_ uncomfortable.

"Koishi…" Marisa felt off.

Koishi tilted her head. She was worried now. If this was bad, that was her fault. "Yeah?"

Marisa smiled, and shook her head. "Sorry, I can… kinda feel it, and it's been a long time since I felt like that. At all."

"Oh." Said Koishi. Mixed feelings, still. "Is that okay?"

"Yeah," said Marisa. "It's probably a good thing. You okay, Alice?"

"If you're asking that, this has to be _really_ weird for you." Alice was smiling, though. Her feelings were a little harder to read; she seemed to control them whenever she wasn't surprised.

And then, Koishi realized the thoughts she were reading were about her. "I'm okay!" she replied to Alice's various watchful thoughts. Everyone was a little worried.

Alice chuckled. "I can't say it's not a _little_ enjoyable to watch this come back to get Marisa all these years later, really, but it's… well, it's a lot different than I thought it'd be."

Marisa actually passed on the opportunity for mockery, as weird as it was. Koishi on the other hand, was Koishi, and she could read Marisa.

The black-white witch's thoughts were… oddly careful. Discomfort and memory had taken some of the force and detail out of her constant background planning. It was a lot quieter than usual, to Koishi.

And, of course, it was Marisa, so Koishi didn't hesitate to ask about her thoughts, openly or otherwise. "I already asked if Alice loved you," she said, a little confused. "Is it bad if you remember that too?" And then, thinking a little more, she followed her own logic. "Is… that memory part of why you loved her?"

Marisa laughed.

"You're blushing," said Alice. She was both amused and surprised, from what Koishi could feel.

"It was, yeah," said Marisa.

 _So she'll answer Koishi no matter what. Those two are… really something._ Alice smiled at the thought, and it made Koishi feel strangely happy.

Marisa, in the meantime, went on. "The fact that anyone could appreciate what I _was_ and what I'd already done was… kinda new. It wasn't just… power, or something else I needed to do. It wasn't a goal, it wasn't pressure – it was just 'hey, you're just really good already if you look at it any of these ways,' and… well." Marisa grinned. "As you probably saw, I really wasn't ready for it. It was nice, though."

And then Koishi had a odd, nice feeling, so she started talking. "Thanks," she said, looking at Alice, who raised an eyebrow.

"Thanks?"

"For being nice to Marisa, when she was like that. She was hard to deal with – or at least, _she_ thinks so, and in that kind-of-serious, feeling-a-bit-bad-about-it kinda way!"

Marisa cringed, then smiled, then laughed. It was weird, how her embarrassment turned to some sort of happiness, when it was Koishi saying these things. It was a nice weird.

"But… she's a lot different now. And she's helped me a lot. And you were nice to her when nobody was, and she didn't know how to take it.

"And she did the same thing for me! Everybody outside of home always hated me. And she just… really liked who I was, and I didn't know that could happen, and it makes me really happy, even now. So… thank you."

Alice was quiet for a moment. She looked surprised, and she _felt_ surprised. Nobody was ready for what was happening today.

It didn't seem like a bad thing.

"Honestly, it's Marisa," said Alice, offering a small shrug. "It's not like it would have stopped her for long anyways." Alice shook her head. "No matter what she was like back then, she's _always_ been impossible to keep down."

"It's not that," said Marisa, although she didn't go on. _It's what you showed me_.

"It's not about that!" said Koishi. "It's that you were nice to her when nobody was. And when maybe nobody else would be. People didn't like her teacher, and she was hard to deal with. And you let her stay anyways, and you were nice to her anyways, even if she was hurt, or shouting, or running away, or anything else.

"Just because Marisa's tough doesn't mean it didn't matter." Koishi realized that she'd floated into the air while talking. She was… focused. This was important, and she was ignoring all the feelings and thoughts that surrounded her now. She _could_. "I know Marisa," she said, thinking back on all the things Marisa had said and done. "She learns from things that _happen_. She might have been okay, but she wouldn't learn how to be nice and like what things _are_ if nobody ever showed her that it was a good thing. And you did!"

And then, Koishi landed, taking a breath. She was… excited, in a way. She was focused. What she was saying felt really important.

ᅟ

Alice was… shocked, really. Koishi was, from the beginning, clearly intent on learning about Marisa. She was always excitedly taking in every new thing she could, and she was utterly earnest in her ways.

But… she really did take it in. What she said about Marisa was true – she learned by example, and trial and error. And, as weird as it felt to admit it, Alice _was_ the first person to show Marisa a kindness that was straightforward, open, and unconditional, compared to a teacher's tests.

And now Koishi was thanking her for something she'd done for someone else, all those years ago. Marisa was a friend, even then – it hadn't really occurred to her to do much else. It was odd, and it was… kind.

"She's right, y'know," said Marisa. She was wearing her usual, annoying grin, but it was colored with a little too much honesty to seem right. "I mean… Honestly, I should've thanked you properly a long time ago. I'm not going to, though," she added. "It'd ruin my credibility!"

Alice didn't even bother to ask just what Marisa could possibly be credible as.

Still, Koishi was… special, and Alice could see, even more than before, how Marisa's interest in Koishi – and all the strange and interesting quirks she brought – had evolved into this strange, earnest love. The odd satori was… genuinely appreciative for a kindness that had been shown years ago, and to somebody else, at that.

She wanted Alice to _know_ that it was a good thing, that she'd changed something important for the better. She wanted Alice to feel good about it, too. It was such a simple, focused kindness – every joy she had, she wanted to share.

She couldn't help but smile. "You really are special, aren't you?" she said, at last.

"Isn't she just?" said Marisa, almost lighting up as Alice spoke. "Is it even surprising I'm in love?"

Well, she was special enough that sometimes Marisa would open up and say things like that while Alice was right in front of her. Not just while Alice was there – but directly to her.

"I'm me!" said Koishi, jumping into the air. "Marisa helped me a lot. But you helped her a lot! And she's really nice to me, and I think you were really nice to her too!" Koishi's smile was infectious, and again, Alice could feel a hint of joy that wasn't her own. "I didn't know it was a nice thing to just be me until Marisa showed me!"

Looking at Koishi, and the hopes and joys that she so wanted to share with anybody she could… she was glad, all personal relations aside, that Marisa had decided to help her on her way. She was, in her odd, joyful simplicity, hard not to admire.

And even if Marisa didn't deserve somebody that innocent… they fit. They shared their excitement, they looked to the future with that same sort of happy, endless energy, and clearly, they knew each other well – and in turn, were both happy to help the other develop.

If anything, Alice might have worried that it was a one-sided relationship – that Marisa was giving everything to get Koishi back on her feet, that perhaps she'd burn out simply because Koishi had been so damaged.

But Marisa wasn't much the kind of person to burn out, and watching the two of them now, it was incredibly obvious that their odd relationship wasn't even close to one-sided.

"Well," said Alice, looking at Koishi as she drifted through the air. "Thank you. I don't think I'm the only one that could have done it…"

"Only one that _would've_ ," Marisa cut in.

"But I'm glad I did."

"I'm glad too!" Koishi hopped into the air, despite already being in the air. "Really glad!"

And then, Marisa grabbed Koishi from the air, pulling her into a big hug.

"You know, you already _have_ a room," said Alice. "You could use it." She smiled, in spite of her words; all play aside, the two of them were honestly adorable.

"Sorry," said Marisa, grinning. "Couldn't resist!"

Koishi giggled, and Marisa let go, now stretching. "Alright," she said. "I think I've had enough for today. Gotta give Alice a break!" she added.

"When was the last time lying worked on anyone here?" Alice sighed; with Marisa, it was a reflex to do so.

"If it makes no sense to lie, nobody'll expect it!" Marisa grinned.

"I can see what you're thinking, Marisa," said Koishi, still smiling.

"Well, it's the thought that counts!"

"But you think you're lying." Koishi crossed her arms. Alice wondered where she'd picked _that_ gesture up.

"That's 'cause I am!" Marisa grinned. "I'm…" Alice could see Marisa's thoughts change gear as Koishi's prying became involved. "I'm a little tired, actually. Didn't think I'd be feeling that stuff again." And then, Marisa looked to Alice. "What? We _just_ went over this, _you'd_ know I can be tired!"

Alice just smirked. "Oh, I know. It's just funny seeing anything force you to be honest."

"She's not forcing me," said Marisa, now offering the mock pout that signalled a minor defeat.

"Well, either way, I think that's enough of a trip down memory lane for me," said Alice. "It's been nice seeing you both, though. Even Marisa. You," she added, looking at Koishi, "can apparently work miracles."

If making Marisa bearable was even within the domain of mere miracles.

"She can! Just watch her!" Marisa grinned. "Even if I've got to teach her how to make a bit more trouble."

"So far, you've been the one giving ground." Alice was, in fact, enjoying this.

"She's worth it," said Marisa. And then, again, she held that obnoxious, insane expression of hers. "But so am I! I'll get to her, just wait!"

Koishi laughed. Alice sighed. That wasn't a good sign.

"Anyways," Alice said, going on. "I think Marisa needs to go home."

"Oh, don't be like that," said Marisa, same grin still plastered to her face. "But if you insist..." The witch looked to Koishi. "Shall we?"

"Yeah!" said Koishi. Her smile was a lot less obnoxious than her partner's.

"Thank you!" said the satori, waving at Alice. "Let's do this again sometime!"

Marisa's expression was… unique, and Alice made a note of that, too. It was always good to have _some_ ammunition.

＊ ＊ ＊

"Are you okay?"

Marisa looked over to a floating Koishi as she laid back in her makeshift bed. Her _permanent_ makeshift bed. "Yeah, why?"

"You never feel tired," said Koishi, kicking at the air. "Not like this."

Marisa thought back on what Alice had recalled, and what she'd remembered. It was, in all honesty, still embarrassing. Alice had given her the first solid, unconditional compliment she'd ever heard in her life. And it was about everything she'd worked as hard as she could for.

…And she'd teared up, started crying, and run off. That was _not_ the coolest side of Marisa Kirisame. But at the time, she wasn't ready at _all._ She'd spent so long working at it that some side of her didn't even think it was _possible_ to really be any good.

But she trusted Alice, who had let her in, let her be a stupid, stupid mess, and helped her get back on her feet, despite that she'd just been a giant pain the whole time.

"It was…" Koishi trailed off. "You were really different, then," she said, now landing softly on top of Marisa. A silent moment later, she was playing with Marisa's hair.

"Yeah. I just wasn't expecting to feel it again," said Marisa. "It really _is_ tiring – I had nothing back then. Well, no. I had a lot."

"Alice knew you did." Koishi had attached herself to Marisa, now. It was a small, warm presence, as Koishi always was. It was nice.

Marisa smiled. "Yeah. But I felt like I had nothing. And it's hard to go back, even if it's just a few feelings. It'd be hard to go back and see what happened in the past for you, wouldn't it?"

Little flashes of fear and pain echoed from Koishi, but she spoke calmly. "Yeah, it would."

"It wasn't as bad for me, I think," said Marisa. "Nobody tried to kill me, even if I ran away. Twice."

Koishi tightened her embrace.

Marisa sighed. This was… well, it wasn't anything she was used to feeling like. She was tired, and she remembered what it felt like not to believe in yourself even a little. It… well, it sucked. Everything you did was just… one more step. And each step didn't feel like it had a whole lot to give.

She had gotten tired, with Mima. It had taken years, but in the end, even she had needed a break. She wasn't an immortal spirit. No matter how much she loved magic, there was more to her odd, human life than any single pursuit.

And now, having remembered that so clearly, she needed another break. Just one day, just this afternoon. It stung; it still felt shameful to need it at all. To even want it.

It was good to face that, though, and Marisa knew it. Koishi knew it, on some level, even if Marisa had been the one to show her.

"You'll be okay," said Koishi, and that surprised Marisa. For once, she was reading not just Marisa's thoughts and feelings in the present, but she was speaking from everything about Marisa she'd learned. Koishi knew her, all too well.

"Yeah," she said, now hugging Koishi back. "Always." It was good to be known. In this moment, Marisa realized, it didn't really feel like anyone knew her, aside from Koishi. She had, for so long, been hiding all of this. The fact that it drained her, the fact that it still hurt to remember – some part of her had known, but the rest of her had denied it. If there was nothing to change, then it was true – some things _were_ best left behind. But… not everything - not the whole story in its entirety.

But in truth, she had regrets. There were a lot of things she had left behind without having the opportunity to face them, even if she hadn't let them hold her back. Always forward was the path she had chosen, and it was still the path she'd choose, every time. Right now, though, that decision lacked the usual, brazen confidence that Marisa Kirisame defined herself with. Right now, she was finally thinking back, because there wasn't anywhere to go, and she was tired.

Koishi was here, though. And she was safe, just in the way Marisa had tried to be. Here, there was no reason to fear appearances, to resent one's own weakness.

The two shared a silent moment, and it was strange. Feelings that Marisa had deliberately channeled before – safety, acceptance, a quiet joy just for another's existence – could be felt now, odd, different reflections of what Marisa had once conveyed to Koishi. Koishi, as always, had learned things in her own, kind way.

It was a wonderful thing. Marisa never had time or room to doubt why or how she loved Koishi – every time, she was reminded of her reasons far sooner than any idle thought could bother her.

And then, in this moment of weakness – quite rare, now, for her – she turned to Koishi, and begun to think aloud.

 _Hey,_ she thought, _why_ do _you like me so much?_

She wasn't expecting the odd burst of joy she felt from Koishi in response, or the excitement that immediately followed it. That was a question that she really _wanted_ to answer. "Lots of reasons!" said the satori, curling up against Marisa as she spoke. "A lot of them are the reasons you like me," she started. Marisa could feel her smiling. "The way you're excited for everything new, the way you want to share it all, the way you just feel so happy to have me see the future with you! But it's not just that!" she added.

Marisa, on some level, almost regretted asking the question. She hadn't walked down memory lane in a while, and she didn't _need_ anybody's approval.

But this? This was nice, despite the trip down memory lane that it felt like.

Koishi went on. "The way you care for me – you try really hard, just for me. You hold your feelings back so they don't hurt me, and you're always thinking about how to help me best, and you're always, always safe for me.

"And all the ways you're smart! I can see them, and I can see how interested you are in every little thing you try, and even if you're just thinking, it's really nice to see! It's fun just to _be_ with you, even before you start doing things!

"So… even if you need a break now, even if you _can_ get tired, that doesn't mean you're not Marisa. You still show me everything. You try to be the cool witch, and the crazy person, and the giant troublemaker, and… I'm not any of those," said Koishi. "But you take me along anyways. Even if you look less cool, even if I don't cause enough trouble, even if you have to ask favors and not steal anything. You think I'm worth it," said Koishi, "even if the world didn't. Even if it doesn't! And it makes me really happy. I didn't know anyone like you was out there. It didn't feel like there _could_ be anyone like you.

"Even when I couldn't think! You waited, and you showed me! You showed me all the tiny little pieces of why it was worth it, all of it! And it was!"

Marisa was… stunned, although she spoke nonetheless. "Y'know," she started, smiling in that odd, painful way. "I don't think anybody out there could be as nice as you are."

She really did feel like time had turned back, just for this odd, kind moment. Some years back, she hadn't known how to handle this careful, considered appreciation, either.

Some things just hadn't changed, it seemed. Marisa took a deep breath, counting all the differences she could recall, all the little pieces between now and then.

And then, she felt an odd, indignant impulse. Koishi was… a little offended?

The satori put one hand on Marisa's cheek, and stared right at her, frowning. "Marisa."

"…yeah?" Koishi's stare was piercing, even though nothing was hidden.

"Don't hold it back," said Koishi. "I can feel it. And I want to see you. All of you, even the parts you wanted to leave behind before. You can see them, I know you can. And… it's alright now. You're safe here." She smiled, and added, "I'm here, Marisa."

Marisa was quiet for a moment. For all the things she had tried to do for Koishi, she hadn't expected the satori to give back so perfectly at all, let alone this soon. She didn't think there _was_ a way.

But... there was. And it was right in front of her, now.

"Marisa." Koishi was worried, and she was… a little sad, but those feelings were quiet. She was holding them back, now, just as Marisa always did for her.

"Yeah… yeah, I know." Marisa smiled, pulling the satori into a tight hug.

And then, she cried.

She cried like an idiot, completely beyond every little act she played, and every impression she gave off. Right now, it _was_ safe. Every little thing she thought she'd left behind was here, and… it was okay. The little scars she'd worked at ignoring, the little things that despite her face-first philosophy she'd never really faced… she could admit them all, here.

It hurt. But it would _heal_ , too. She'd told herself a thousand times she was never going back, that she'd never make the same mistake twice, running away from something she didn't want to be.

But she would never be that.

She was still crying. There was no running this time, no pretending that all the past stings, all the little things that made her angry were things she'd entirely left behind. It _hurt_. All those years, all the little things she'd been missing… here was a single, safe moment in which she could regret them all, acknowledge the small ways she had denied them. Here, she could admit her mistakes in detail, instead of just admitting that they _were_ mistakes.

And finally, she cried for all the things she had lost in the simple movements of her life. The pieces of home that a thirteen-year-old Marisa Kirisame had never entirely stopped missing, the moments of pride and accomplishment that she had earned, working under Mima with endless dedication, and… and the odd bond that teacher and apprentice had shared, through all their differences and bitterness.

"Thank you," she choked out. For so much. For more things than even she could keep track of, right now. Feelings drowned out thoughts, and even though that was what Marisa had worked so hard to stop from happening for so very long… it was okay, just this once.

Koishi was quiet, listening to every thought, sharing every feeling. She was stroking Marisa's back, now; it was one small sensation among many.

"I… know what I've done right," said Marisa, finally regaining her breath, and just a little bit of her composure. "I don't think that I'm lying to you, or that you're too good for me. I know I've helped you a lot…"

"It hurts," said Koishi, smiling. "It happens to everyone, doesn't it? You think you've faced something just because you left it behind."

"It does, yeah…" Marisa finally let go. God, she was a mess. "But I get it, now. One day, you'll go back and remember everything, too, won't you?"

Koishi was afraid. And she was happy, and she was determined. "Yeah! I will."

And then, Marisa laid back. "I really should go see Mima soon, huh?" _I really hope she's still around._

"Still around?"

"She was a ghost," said Marisa. "She's only tied to this world while she wills it strongly enough. And…"

Koishi could see Marisa's thoughts. "She was lonely."

"She came to this world with a hatred nobody shared. Revenge isn't a happy life." _And I left her._

"You don't owe her," said Koishi. "But you care about her, too."

"Like I said…" Marisa sighed, wiping some tears away. "She tried really hard. Even if she didn't have a clue how to treat somebody well. And I think she saw herself in me." _A lost magician that everyone hated. A girl who wanted to learn magic and suffered every time she tried._ "I lived. She didn't. Do you know how she told me?"

"No," said Koishi. "But I want to see it with you."

Marisa chuckled. "Yeah, that's fine. I'm gonna rest now. Wake me up early – I'm tired, but we can still see how it was, tomorrow – just not _riiiight_ now."

"Yeah." And then, Koishi looked at Marisa. "Thank you."

"Me? For what?" Marisa blinked. Koishi was thanking her for what just happened?

"For letting me give something back to you. Even if it hurts. Even if it's scary."

And then, finally, Marisa grinned. "You've been facing that every day since you opened that eye of yours. Of course I'm gonna let you in."

Koishi kissed Marisa on the cheek, all in one, adorable blur of motions. "I love you!" she said, now grinning in a way that almost mirrored Marisa.

Well. _That_ was gonna be fun.

"I love you too, Koishi. And thank you." It really _was_ a whole new world, with the odd satori. New sides of everything, and… well, a whole lot of new feelings.

And then, finally, Koishi curled up against Marisa's chest, smiling all the while. "Are we sleeping now?" she asked.

"Yeah," said Marisa, once again counting Koishi's breaths as she felt them. It was an odd little feedback loop – Koishi could, in turn, hear the quiet background noise of that count.

But Koishi liked Marisa's thoughts, as well, and their odd rhythm. It was a nice, little reflection.

As long as things were small enough, Marisa thought, they could, in fact, be perfect. There was no such thing as a perfect life… but some moments really did stand on their own.

A slight shift in the pace of Koishi's breathing – and the little feelings she always shared with Marisa – signaled that the satori had fallen asleep. Marisa smiled, ran a hand through Koishi's hair, and laid back, waiting for sleep to follow.


	19. Chapter 19 - Drawn Hearts

Marisa's eyes hurt. That was the first conscious sensation of her day.

Sleeping from exhaustion was good rest in and of itself, but the witch hated how long it took to really get going after waking up.

Her own reflexes as they were, she almost sprung out of bed before remembering that, in fact, she was neither alone nor free to move – a sleeping Koishi was, as was often the case, right on top of her.

In light of yesterday – which was still a strange, emotional blur – and a sleeping Koishi pinning her down, a little more rest didn't seem like a bad idea; it was still dark outside.

Still, Marisa hadn't forgotten what Koishi had asked. "Hey," she said, shaking the satori, and feeling little emotions begin to appear.

"It's dark," murmured Koishi. She let out a yawn, and then attached herself to Marisa.

"Yeah, it is," said Marisa, smiling. _You wanted to keep seeing how things were, yeah?_

"Yeah." Koishi's voice was small and soft when she was sleepy. It was, much like everything else about her, incredibly cute.

"Alright," said Marisa, and laid back, letting fatigue and odd comfort overtake her.

＊ ＊ ＊

Many distant voices filled Marisa's perception, and it took her a moment to realize that what she heard wasn't a dream.

She was up in moments, looking around. It was dark, and Mima wasn't anywhere that she could see.

She could see lights in the distance.

They weren't magical lights – they were too consistent, and without the brilliance of magic. If anything, they were simple fires – torches or lanterns.

Marisa's heart was pounding, now. She tried her best to ignore it, heading towards the noise and light to investigate. Skipping from tree to tree – that was enough, in the night's darkness – she moved closer to the source.

It was dark, still, and she was quiet, so she found her answer quickly: it was a crowd of people. And, if she was right, they were from the village. Why were they here?

Her mind raced. All she could think of is that they were here for her.

And then, things came to a head.

"And just what is such a group of _your_ kind doing so deep into the forest?"

Mima had cut off the group, appearing before them. She was smiling.

It was not a kind smile.

Marisa shivered. She still couldn't make out what the group was saying.

"Looking for someone?" Still, the ghost wore her cruel smirk.

And then, the earth shook. Marisa heard shouts as she lost track of the crowd, trying to keep her balance.

The tree in front of her began to creak, breaking the earth beneath it as its roots moved. Blinding clouds of dust and dirt filled the air.

And then, with one loud crash, the tree fell, and Marisa realized she'd been exposed. Mima had done that on purpose, she was sure.

It was a very different spell than Marisa had seen before. No magic had radiated directly from the ghost – the ground had simply begun to move, quaking with invisible forces in countless unseen directions.

Compared to the bright lights and patterned runes that Marisa knew, it was unique.

Marisa snapped to attention. The details of Mima's spell weren't important now.

"Marisa!"

She froze. That was her mother's voice. The crowd, just before silenced by the display of the supernatural began to move again.

"Marisa! Come here, _now_! You're in danger!"

"She is _not_ yours." Mima's voice cut through the noise of the crowd. Marisa stood still. Why had her home come back to find her?

The tension was unbearable. Mima presented an unknown, supernatural threat, and Marisa's parents clearly didn't plan to leave without her.

The crowd began to move back, torchlight and murmuring sounds growing a little fainter. Marisa's parents remained at the forefront, still.

"She is no longer one of your countless, ordinary kind," said Mima. "And now you have seen it."

"Marisa…"

Marisa didn't say anything. It was... she wasn't ready for this. She'd already _left_. Why was she afraid? Why were her parents here?

She looked at the upheaved dirt beneath her. Scattered little patterns formed odd waves of dust and broken soil, a strange measure of the forces that had broken the earth. It wasn't obvious, but with a bit of testing, it would probably make sense.

"As if I could ever trust a magician's life with your kind." Mima raised a hand, and strange runes began to trace themselves in the air. Small, bright lines traced themselves, navigating their way through invisible matrices. Marisa could feel the pressure in the air change.

"I've seen enough like you, walking in mindless crowds. In numbers, you can force away everything that scares you, blind yourself to any truth that you are _all_ too cowardly to face.

You will not have this one. _This_ time, I am more powerful than any of your pathetic, terrified number, and she is not yours."

Marisa realized that Mima, cold and ancient as she was, wouldn't hesitate to harm them. She had almost killed Marisa. The crowd began to retreat – how could they even harm a spirit?

Still, at the front, and the last to move, were Marisa's parents. They didn't look furious, as they always did.

They were afraid.

"STOP!"

Marisa threw her arms out, and her terror became desperation.

Light arced through the night, drawing a sharp line between Marisa's teacher and her parents. She didn't see where it ended.

The chaos ground to a halt. Everyone looked to Marisa. She barely realized what she'd done.

Her legs were carrying her. She was acting before she could think.

"That's enough!" she said, throwing her arms out as she stopped between Mima and the crowd, facing her parents first. "I'm not going back! Now run!"

She could _feel_ Mima's anger. She turned around to face her teacher. "Don't hurt them."

" _You_ are going to deny me?" Mima's glare was cold and piercing. Her smile was gone in an instant.

"GO!" Marisa shouted, turning back to the crowd. "Just RUN!"

Again, she called forth mere days' learning. She tried to feel the magic in the air, in her, the strange feelings that seemed almost bound to her own will. And, in her desperation, it responded.

Bursts of light streaked from her fingertips. It stung; Marisa was barely in control.

Still, her desperate spells served their purpose. They snaked out, hit the ground, and exploded into colors and smoke. Panic spread amongst the villagers, and soon, just as Marisa had told them, they were all fleeing. Even her parents, hesitating for a moment, still followed the others.

There was no time to wonder if they would return.

Marisa turned to face her teacher. She was terrified, but the anger of the moment held her steadfast.

She met Mima's glare, and said nothing. Her heart was pounding, and it felt difficult merely to stand.

Mima lowered her arm, and the gathered magic dispersed. Marisa almost relaxed.

And then, the earth around the spirit ignited. Strange fires lit the night in blue and green and violet, and soil became ash.

Marisa watched as streaks of light burnt etched tiny paths into the ground, evaporating loose dirt. It was terrifying, and as before, it was beautiful.

"You would throw your life in my way to save them, Marisa Kirisame." It was not a question.

"They're my family." Marisa, against her better judgement, stood her ground. "I don't want anything to happen to them."

"You fled them." Mima's gaze was unmoving.

"I know!" Marisa bunched her fists. "But I don't want to hurt them!"

There was a long silence before, at last, earth and magic settled. Mima's temper had subsided. "I see."

Marisa said nothing. Her adrenaline was still rushing, even as some of her fear began to lessen.

"Marisa Kirisame," said Mima, at last. "Do you know why I am here?"

"…no."

"I was a magician in life. For that alone, I was branded a heretic."

Still, Marisa was silent.

"The last time that _I_ saw such a crowd, they had come to end my life. And they did."

And then, fear, desperation, and momentary anger faded. Marisa, all of a sudden, was tired. She didn't know what to say.

"It was a hanging. An ordinary fate for a heretic, in the time and place. And now, countless years later, I am here. Presented with a homeless girl and her talent for magic." Mima's expression was distant, even as her gaze fell on Marisa.

"…my parents weren't the people who killed you."

"You are still alive."

Those words sounded a lot like 'I know' to Marisa. "I'm sorry."

Mima frowned. "If you are sorry for your actions, then why would you act in such a manner in the first place? Defend yourself, or do not stand at all."

Marisa was silent. She didn't know what to say to that.

 _And now, she did._

"Regardless." Mima waved a hand in dismissal. "You have already shown progress today."

"I… have?"

"Your magic listens to your feelings. For it to do so without training is a rare gift; you will use it well."

"I... what did I do?" The girl slumped a little as she asked. Her nerves had finally calmed, leaving her with only exhaustion.

"It is not yet morning. Sleep, and we shall examine it then."

 _Sleep, and wake._

The gap in Marisa's perception was a little clearer, this time. Mima was _then,_ the girl – Marisa – that had interfered was _then…_ and this view, this knowledge…

This was _now._

＊ ＊ ＊

Marisa awoke with a start. She'd had enough sleep, and she'd been starting too slowly, as of recently. Today, whatever it held, needed a proper Marisa Kirisame jumpstart.

Koishi was already out of the way as Marisa leapt out of bed.

"Morning!" said Marisa, grinning. Today, she had to prepare.

"Prepare for what?" Koishi mirrored Marisa's grin, if not perfectly.

"Tomorrow. I'm gonna go see Mima," said Marisa, already looking around the house. There were a few _old_ books, a few haphazardly-written scrolls she hadn't touched in years, and some idle experiments to pass the time.

"You're nervous."

"I am!" Marisa held her grin. "But that's good. It's been a long time since I've been this worried about flying head first into anything!"

"You're still going to!" It was impossible to tell mind-reading apart from knowing Marisa as a person, in this case.

"That's the best part of being afraid!"

Marisa wasn't lying. She was nervous and afraid, entirely uncertain of what might happen as a result of her actions.

And she was going right ahead, enjoying every moment of it. There was a rush to that worry, when you simply let it drive you forward instead of into a corner.

She could feel excitement and admiration from Koishi, and it was a nice little feeling – knowing that Koishi was with her in her reckless, ever-forward attitude.

"You're really cool!" Koishi floated into the air, waving her arms.

"I know!" Marisa's grin felt natural again. Of course she was cool – she was Marisa Kirisame, insane, totally ordinary, black-and-white magician.

Koishi gave her a thumbs-up, and Marisa idly wondered if that had come from anybody.

"Nope!" said Koishi, as if the little branch of thought was conversation – between the two of them, it essentially was. "I just felt like it!"

"I like it!" Marisa gave a thumbs-up back. Koishi giggled.

And then, back to her search, back to work. Today wouldn't be an adventure, but Marisa couldn't stand being slow or inactive any longer. She'd had enough time to be tired, to be emotional and vulnerable. She knew she was safe, and had been.

Now? It was time to get up and keep being Marisa Kirisame.

Taking a book that Koishi had passed her without word or thought, she flipped through the pages, noting all the little references. This one was an almanac of her own design – a long, haphazard compilation of all the forest's native mushroom species and their effects.

The next pages that Koishi handed her, again simply through Marisa's reflex, were bound together less formally. Those ones were notes on old spells she hadn't used too much, mostly ones she'd learned from Mima. She didn't really like looking at them, she'd realized – and that meant it was time to go through them all.

These tasks were all unrelated, but they were all activity. Turning to what passed for a stove in Marisa's house – any 'real' magician would no doubt have a conniption at its inner workings – Marisa took a couple more ingredients from Koishi. "Thanks!"

"You're really fun to watch," said Koishi, handing Marisa a pot before she realized that she needed it. Marisa didn't miss a beat – she was setting up her solution within seconds.

"This one should set for about half an hour, if I'm right. Half an hour, or five seconds plus about two hours before it stops being unstable enough to take the _rest_ of the roof." Marisa frowned for a moment as she remembered that she really ought to fix her roof. She hated doing practical things with her time and energy.

Koishi giggled. "You wanna find out in thirty minutes, right?"

Marisa grinned. "Yep!"

And then, still in motion, she pulled another bound collection of pages from a pile of papers. There were a lot of miscellaneous piles in her house, all of which she could tell apart without looking.

One arm flipped through those papers, as the other returned a sudden hug from Koishi. "Hey, you," she said, giving Koishi a glance.

"You're thinking a lot," said Koishi. "I like how it sounds."

"I can feel that." Marisa smiled. "It's nice!"

 _Orreries Sun._ That was one of a few spells she still used today. A lot of Mima's teachings were… well, they didn't have the same point they used to, given the advent of the spellcard system. The sun was one that she had adapted, but there were many more spells she hadn't.

She looked through her messy notes and odd sketches. A lot of smaller things had poured through from Mima, despite the times. Marisa had always liked the stars; that had been a shared affinity. Her oft-disdained style of casting – power above all else, because if it didn't pack a real punch, where was the fun? – was also one that Mima had taught her.

Mima had cast her own spells in such a way.

 _You have the talent and the focus. There's no need for you to play such delicate games; you are above them._ That had been the answer to Marisa's first questioning of more delicate rituals and formal spellcasting.

She knew those rituals, the proper procedures now, of course. If you _really_ wanted to disregard something, it served to know exactly what you were carelessly throwing aside.

"Do you think she's okay?" Koishi asked, and Marisa knew she was referring to the thought of Mima.

"Probably not," Marisa said. Little notes of anxiety and upset made themselves known in her feelings, but she was done with hesitation. "She hasn't even bothered Reimu in years."

"Is she gone?"

"I'd bet she's still around. She always had one hell of a strong will, and that's what keeps ghosts tied to this world." Marisa shrugged. "She was around for a long time before I found her, that's for sure."

"Are you going to be okay?" Koishi was leaning over a little, and in the background of Marisa's many thoughts, she still had to appreciate the odd ways in which Koishi's motions reflected her feelings.

"I told ya," said Marisa, grinning with _spirit._ "Always!"

Koishi smiled back. "That's a really cool thing about you!"

"I know," said Marisa. She wasn't ready, but she was prepared for that fact. She was going to find Mima, and she was going to show her old teacher just what she'd learned.

It had been a long time, and no matter what grudges Mima held… well, Marisa owed her at least this odd proof of what she was now. In this strange, kind Gensokyo, Marisa had conquered so very much of what Mima had always hated – shyness, regret, fear, and hesitation were all parts of her past that she had grown beyond.

Marisa felt oddly proud. Notes taken years ago still made sense at a glance. Magic that she had struggled to understand then seemed almost trivial in the scope of her present knowledge.

Alice was right. Even without a teacher, Marisa had still grown. She was far more of a magician now than she had been back then – and even then she was, in spite of how she had felt, quite formidable.

Mima had seemed like an insurmountable wall. No matter what Marisa knew, the depths of her teacher's knowledge seemed limitless.

But the Marisa of present day Gensokyo _loved_ insurmountable walls. They were challenges that provided only victories – to break them was a proof of her progress and her exceptional nature, and to be deflected marked opportunities to learn and grow – whether as a magician, or as a person.

It was strange, how much she had to learn from the memories of a teacher that she had left so long ago.

And it was sad, as well, how far Gensokyo had moved beyond what Mima was. She had always held her hatred, her resentment for the world that had killed her. It was always a force of will.

And Marisa couldn't share that, in the end. That, in truth, was the breaking point. Marisa was tough; she could handle however harsh Mima was, even if it wasn't the best for her. But… she couldn't think of everyone else like they were all insignificant, couldn't look at the world as if all of it had wronged her.

She quickly became aware of a satori dangling from her shoulders.

"You taught me to be strong this way," said Koishi.

"Just a little," replied Marisa. "I showed you how I do it, and I told you why I do it. The rest of it is the real work – facing those fears, standing up tall when you really want to run away, ignoring all of your scary thoughts to admit when you're running away from something.

I showed you how I do it, but you did all the hard parts. Because you're strong, too."

Warmth and joy filled Marisa's sensations. The odd empathetic link as it was, it was impossible not to love all the little things that Koishi so appreciated.

And then, different feelings, the usual, odd excitement among them. "Hey," said Koishi. "Is it okay if I go out today?"

It occurred to Marisa how odd it was that when Koishi wanted to know if something was okay, she usually waited for a reply – and chose not to read anything.

Not that she minded. "Of course! You gonna be back later?" Marisa didn't really need an answer; spontaneity was essentially her aesthetic.

"I think so!" And then, Koishi had been gone all along. It didn't throw Marisa off at all anymore, but the odd distinction of how it occurred was always cool.

＊ ＊ ＊

"Hi!"

Reimu sighed. Just the fact that she had heard a greeting without remembering anything about it meant she could probably tell who was 'visiting' her shrine.

All that she _cared_ to conclude, however, was that it was another annoyance. Wonderful.

"It's okay!" said the satori, making herself known all along. It was Koishi – Marisa's girlfriend, thought Reimu. She didn't much care to waste words on a longer term for it, unusual as it might be.

After all, _everything_ was unusual in Gensokyo.

"It is, is it?" Reimu was not impressed.

"Yeah! I donated!" Koishi hopped into the air, despite already being there.

Reimu's mood went very quickly from annoyed to somewhere between delighted and suspicious. Marisa's little accomplice had _donated?_

"Yeah!" Koishi giggled, tried to speak again, and then fell out of the air in a laughing fit. "I…" She caught her breath. "Marisa worries a bit that I'm making her soft, right?"

"And…?"

"Well, that means I should keep her on her toes, right?" Koishi started to laugh again.

" _And…?_ " Reimu's patience was straining as much as something that barely existed could.

"So I stole from her to donate! 'cause she'd never do anything like that!"

Reimu's thoughts came to an abrupt halt. She _what_?

There was a long silence. Reimu started to laugh, and Koishi did too.

It was almost a good minute before the shrine maiden could breathe again.

"See, I've never stolen anything before, and Marisa loves me! So she was totally off guard this time, even though she's Marisa." Koishi was grinning, and Reimu realized that it was almost literally Marisa's trademark grin.

She started laughing again. This was too much, and the thought of _anybody,_ let alone Koishi, stealing from _Marisa Kirisame_ to donate to her was crazy. And also, apparently, happening. Miracles were possible today, it seemed.

"Alright, alright," said Reimu, still catching her breath. "I'll make tea, you can stay if you want."

"Okay!" Koishi landed, still giggling. "I wanted to ask you some things, but I thought it'd be better if you were in a good mood!"

"Well," said Reimu, smiling, "you're not wrong!"

＊ ＊ ＊

"You've known Marisa for a long time."

"I didn't have a choice," muttered Reimu. "No matter how many times you deal with her, she's always back to do _something_ new and annoying."

"Yeah! I love it!" Koishi was trying to be polite, whatever that meant, so she was actually sitting down.

" _I don't."_ Reimu's expression was pretty sullen. Koishi could see why everyone seemed to find it so funny, although she wasn't sure just what made it that way.

"So you were there when she left her teacher, right?"

Koishi sensed an odd mix of feelings in response. Reimu wasn't usually much for feelings, as far as the satori could see – she was usually just nonchalant or slightly annoyed – so that wasn't normal, for her.

"Yeah, I was." That was… some little bit of concern, and a bit of feeling bad.

"You cared?"

"You don't act like she did without having any problems. It's obvious." Reimu shrugged. Koishi waited, and Reimu frowned, but went on.

"So when she stops showing up for a while, or looks a lot worse than she usually does, anybody can tell something's up. Not like she'd want my help, though."

"But you cared." Koishi could feel little bits of… regret? Not quite. It was hard to read, so far.

"Eh," Reimu shrugged again. "Her problems are whatever they are. If she wanted to share, I couldn't stop her from sharing them even if I wanted to.

"But yeah, I cared, I guess. Maybe just 'cause people with problems are even more of a pain, but… not really. I just did."

Reimu really _didn't_ care about hiding anything. "Well… thanks."

"Thanks?" Reimu raised an eyebrow.

"For caring about Marisa! Because I care too." Koishi smiled – she could see why everyone seemed to like Reimu. She was grumpy and didn't care about too much, but she didn't really hate anyone. She certainly didn't care enough to judge anyone. She was welcoming, in a grumpy, unwelcoming way.

It was just a little bit like Marisa, in that one, tiny way.

Reimu smiled a little. "I don't really hate this place. It's annoying, and people keep waking me up at stupid times, but it's a nice place. If Marisa really needs something, she can always come and bother me until it comes up.

"And she sure came by to bug me about you." Reimu smirked, and Koishi could sense that she was a little amused.

"She did?" Koishi was interested, now.

"Yeah. Pretty much to ask me not to be offended by you. It was stupid, but I mean, love is blind. Or whatever it is they say." Reimu took a sip of her tea, shaking her head. "It got her not to steal anything, though, so you're pretty important to her."

Koishi nodded. It was true, and Reimu definitely wasn't lying. She didn't ever lie, as far as Koishi had heard. "She's really important to me, too!"

"When she left Mima, she wasn't around at all for a while. When she was around again, she didn't bug me as much. Now and then she would, but then she wouldn't show up for a while. Maybe she felt bad about it. I didn't ask." Reimu shrugged. "She ran away from home, right?"

Koishi nodded. "Yeah. When she was young."

"So she ran away twice. She was obnoxiously attached to her master, so…" _It'd be pretty hard on her._ Reimu's thoughts were, much like she acted, simple. Usually, they coincided with her spoken words, although now and then she'd think things she hadn't worded out, or simply think faster than she spoke.

"What about you?" said Koishi, at last. She was sure, at least, that Reimu was a good friend. And now, she was curious, and it didn't seem to be possible to seriously offend Reimu. "You've been alone as long as Marisa remembers."

"Yeah," said Reimu. "That's the Hakurei shrine maiden's job, really. Can't really remember much of anyone looking out for me, but it always worked out anyways. Food, trouble, staying at the shrine… it was never really a problem."

"Weren't you lonely?" Koishi couldn't feel too much from Reimu – she didn't seem to _have_ particularly strong feelings, though.

"Early on, I guess. I'd go exploring when I was a kid. Later… well, I couldn't get people to _stop_ bugging me, could I?" Reimu smiled. "I've never had too many problems with it, and I mean, once you meet Marisa the first time, you never get rid of her."

"Yeah! I love it." Koishi hopped into the air, holding her teacup. It didn't spill, even as Koishi began to turn upside-down.

Reimu didn't seem to notice. "So, why now?"

"Eh?"

"You're asking me now for a reason, right?" Reimu smirked. "What's going on with Marisa?"

"Oh." Koishi wondered for a moment what Marisa would think of telling Reimu all of this – or the fact that Reimu was going out of her way to ask.

Marisa being Marisa, Koishi doubted that she'd mind. "Well… it's a long story."

"I'm here all day," said Reimu, taking another sip of her tea.

"Okay!" Koishi landed on the floor, and bounced back up. "So a while ago, I wanted to see what Marisa's past was like! Because..." Koishi paused. "Because mine was really hard for me, and I wasn't sure what was hard for her!"

"And she agreed to it?" Reimu, against her usual nature, was still smiling.

"Yeah! She's really open with me. So… well, she had a dream that I could see. It was like replaying her past!"

"Right." Reimu could tell where this was going, and Koishi could see that, so she went ahead to the part Reimu didn't know about.

"Anyways, I… started asking Alice about it. And the last time, I brought Marisa – so we saw how she was just after she left her teacher.

"It was hard for her." Koishi landed, and kicked at the ground a little. She still didn't like seeing Marisa like that. "Way back, she stayed with Alice for a while."

"How was she?" Reimu actually looked interested. She felt interested.

"I don't know what Marisa was like back then," said Koishi. "But she didn't like looking weak. And she wasn't strong, right after leaving.

"Alice let her stay, took some time to figure out how to deal with her…" Koishi paused. It felt… strange, deliberately recounting something. She had regained her memory with the opening of her third eye, but it still felt strange trying to deliberately recall anything.

Reimu waited, and Koishi went on. "Marisa asked what Alice thought she was, and Alice told her. And it was a bunch of good things – she was a really good magician, even then!"

"She would've been less difficult if she wasn't..."

"And that wouldn't be Marisa!" Koishi nodded happily. "But when Alice told her all that, she… didn't expect it at all. I think Mima was just really hard on her."

"Did she start sparking things?" Reimu raised an eyebrow, although Koishi could tell the question was only half-serious.

"Nope! She…" Koishi paused. This felt just a little strange to talk about.

Not that that stopped her. "She started crying. And ran away."

" _Marisa_ did?" Reimu stared at Koishi. "Wow. So it was even _worse_ than I thought."

"Yeah. That's as much as we saw. But it was difficult for her, even now." Koishi kicked at the air; the little motions had always been comfortable to her. "So she wanted to go see Mima, because she doesn't like running from things."

"That part sounds like her, at least." Reimu let out a sigh. "Headfirst into everything before anyone else gets a chance." _Well, except when other people show up even earlier than that…_

"It is!" Koishi paused, and then backtracked to her previous thoughts. Again, it felt a little strange to do so. "I just wanted to ask you about it now, because I'm worried. I'm okay! And she'll be okay! But I still feel worried."

"Well, I didn't know about it, so I can't really tell you anything new. I guess she really _was_ having issues when she started bugging me less, though."

Reimu felt a little bad, as far as Koishi could tell.

 _Well, it's a while past now._ And, just like that, the shrine maiden's feelings seemed to quiet. That was… strange, but smart; there wasn't any point feeling bad about something that happened years ago, if everyone was okay now.

"You're still a good friend," said Koishi. Reimu was fine, but… Koishi just wanted her to know.

"Well, thanks, I guess? I'd rather you don't tell Marisa that, though. You'd just give her more excuses."

"But I like giving her excuses!"

Koishi felt a sudden rush of… resignation. It was oddly funny. She laughed.

"Whatever," muttered Reimu. Koishi could tell, still, that her frustration was mild at most.

The two were quiet, for a little – Reimu's mind wasn't really a loud one – and then Reimu spoke again, smiling.

"So Marisa really couldn't take a compliment, huh?" Reimu chuckled. "I'll have to remember that one."

"Yeah… and she was still tired, later. But!" Koishi waved her hands, mostly just because she could. "She's still Marisa! So she's gonna go find Mima tomorrow. She's getting ready now."

"Well, if it's an incident, I'll be there." Reimu smiled. "You two care about each other a lot, huh?"

"Yeah!" Koishi felt happy at that, as simple an observation as it was.

"Well, hopefully she doesn't come back for that donation," said Reimu, "but thanks. All I can really tell you is that she'll be alright, 'cause it's Marisa. She never stays down for long."

Koishi nodded. "Thanks!"

＊ ＊ ＊

Reimu finished the last of her tea, thinking in the wake of the odd satori's departure.

Koishi was definitely a strange one – although everyone in Gensokyo was. She was open about almost anything, and given Reimu's lazy honesty, she was also happy enough to simply read and question unspoken thoughts and feelings.

It wasn't too hard to see why Marisa was so enamored with her, though: everything was exciting to her. Every little new thing was something to enjoy just for what it was.

Reimu tended to call that kind of person "annoying", but Marisa would love it, given that she was _exactly that kind of person_.

Both intuition and watching the obvious made it clear, however, that there was more to it than that. Marisa was willing to hold back her usual mischief and even genuinely ask for favors for Koishi's sake. And now Koishi was out asking about Marisa. They cared about one another, and if Reimu had to guess, she'd say that even when it came to personal issues, they were still happy to explore anything new.

And current events were hard, even on the Marisa Kirisame that Reimu knew _now_. She wondered if Koishi was making Marisa more open on the whole.

If she was, it'd probably just make her more of a pain.

In spite of herself, Reimu smiled. Everyone was annoying, but it wasn't all that bad.

＊ ＊ ＊

Marisa had, to her disappointment, failed to explosively disassemble any part of her house by the time Koishi returned.

She was, on the other hand, ready for tomorrow. All of her old, dusty notes had been found and re-read, and old spells had been practiced once again. It was… much easier now than Marisa had expected.

She really _had_ been scared of it.

But then, the challenge ahead of her was unknown. It's not as if Mima had ever stumbled in her teachings.

"Hey!"

Marisa waved at Koishi, although she didn't spot just where the satori had appeared. "Heya. Where'd you go?"

"I was talking to Reimu!" Koishi hopped into Marisa's vision. "She's nice."

Coming from anybody but Koishi, 'nice' would be a strange term to use for the shrine maiden. Koishi, on the other hand, tended to see everybody as they were at the base, and the truth was that as grumpy as Reimu always seemed, she was a big softy. If you hung around her enough and she didn't hate you, she'd care at least a little.

"She was in a really good mood, too!" Koishi giggled. For some reason, Marisa felt that this particular giggle meant trouble.

"Why's that?"

"Because I stole your money and donated!" said Koishi.

Wait—

"Wait, _WHAT?!"_

Koishi started to laugh.

She _what?_ She did _what_? She did what _with Marisa's money? Donated_? _**To Reimu?**_

"She…" Koishi lost her words to hysterical laughter. "I already told her! So you're gonna have to get past her if you want it back!"

"You…" Marisa fell to silence. _Marisa Kirisame_ had been burgled, and her funds were being used for _donations_. Her reputation! Her bad name!

"You were worried I was making you soft, right?" Koishi grinned. _That_ was Marisa's grin. That adorable runt was stealing _everything_!

" _Why, you…"_ She ought to—

"I can see what you're planning before you get the hakkero, too!" Koishi was _so_ proud of herself, and Marisa could _feel_ it, that smug, backstabbing, expression-stealing…

…

Marisa, finding very little in the way coherent thought that was actually _suitable_ for the situation, instead started to laugh hysterically. Koishi laughed with her. Or at her. Probably both. Definitely both.

"Alright, alright," said Marisa, finally catching her breath, along with some coherency. "You got me this time, you stupid, lovable brat."

Koishi giggled again. "Now you're on your toes again, right?"

Marisa took a deep breath… and grinned. Koishi throwing her off entirely was one of the amusing and challenging things that had first drawn her in – it was quite welcome now… although it came at quite a price. Donations! How _could_ she?

"Well, you'll have to try a lot harder to get me again!" Marisa adjusted her hat. "And now I gotta get you back!"

Koishi drifted into the air. "I don't have anything to steal."

"That's what _you_ think!"

"You're not planning anything!"

"If I don't know what I'm gonna do, then even you can't predict me!" Marisa grinned. "What, ya think I'm not crazy enough?"

And then, once again, Koishi's expression was Marisa's signature: the insane, overconfident grin. "I think you are! And I wanna see it!"

Again, the two laughed together.

 _Well,_ Marisa thought, _I guess_ _I'm not getting soft any time soon._

＊ ＊ ＊

"You're excited," said Koishi, lying on top of a slightly frustrated Marisa.

"I know! And now I can't sleep!" Marisa gave a joking pout. "I haven't had this big a personal issue in years!"

Marisa was serious and joking, in that way that Marisa usually was. She was nervous, and she had been hurt – and she was excited to go charging in to face it. For all the humor she gave it, it was serious, and yet…

When she grinned, Koishi could feel it. When she jumped right out of bed to get ready, that excitement wasn't any kind of lie. Marisa was nervous, maybe even afraid, and she was looking forward to it.

And that was something Koishi would never stop admiring. It was the same strength that had convinced her old, unthinking self to begin to think again, the same strength that left Koishi more excited to see the world than she was afraid of what might hurt her.

She wanted to feel that all her life. To know that there were scary things in the world, and to feel like facing them was just another thing to be excited about.

And with Marisa, she _did_. She had walked a path from broken and afraid, to being in pain… and happy. It hurt, and it hurt often, but it was _okay_ to hurt, and every time, it meant there was something new to learn.

The pain was worth it.

Koishi realized that Marisa had enveloped her in one tight hug. "Oh," she said, hugging back. "You felt that?"

"Of course," said Marisa. _I guess I've got the world's nicest sleeping aid, huh?_

"What's that mean?" Koishi smiled. She was happy. The little nights with Marisa were small, wonderful things.

"You're really soft," said Marisa. "You'd help anyone sleep."

"You're soft too," said Koishi, curling up. The sounds of Marisa's thoughts were nice – it was enough to distract Koishi's own thoughts, but it was quiet enough that she could simply fall asleep listening to them.

And she was sleepy, now. She could hear the little trains of thought as Marisa counted the patterns in her breath, and in turn, she counted those thoughts.

Tomorrow was a big day. It wasn't Koishi's day, but she was looking forward to it.

"I love you," she murmured, now starting to forget the waking world.

"I love you too."

Marisa's voice began to mingle with her many, quiet thoughts. It was so nice, Koishi thought, to have such a strange, small safety in the world.

Finally, the waking world faded, and thoughts became tiny, dreaming fragments.


	20. Chapter 20 - A World Apart

"I don't _care!_ "

There was a long silence. Marisa Kirisame had finally snapped at her teacher.

Over the years, a dialect of mockery and back-and-forth exchanges had grown between the two. Marisa was not the scared little girl that she used to be.

This, on the other hand, wasn't that. This was anger, and this was without restraint.

Taking her teacher's silence as an invitation, Marisa went on. "I can learn how I like! I don't _care_ if some other ritual is useless, it's still magic!"

"And it's still useless to you." Mima frowned, but she was not noticeably disturbed.

"So what? You think the kid you took in only wanted to learn magic that would make her stronger? You think I was just interested in power? Is that because that's all _you_ care about?"

"You know _nothing_ of my life, Marisa Kirisame."

The witch paused. It was strange, now, to see Mima's old form return. She was formal and imposing when she had first found Marisa. In the times and interactions since, she'd become more relaxed; she would mock others in singsong tones, ask sarcarstic questions, and respond to challenges with amused smiles and laughter.

Beneath it all, Marisa always felt that there was more, but nonetheless, it had been a long time since her teacher sounded like this.

But she wasn't a child anymore.

"If you think I don't know anything about your life, then that says a lot about you. You've been like _that_." Marisa pointed to the ghost's fading trail. "For how many years? If that's nothing, then why the hell do you care what _I_ do? I'm not you!"

"You had _nothing_. I offered to teach you magic because you showed both a focus and a talent for it." Mima's expression was unreadable. Didn't she _care_?

"And if I didn't, you woulda just shot me. Didja think I forgot about that?"

Mima was silent.

"So what was it? Did you take me in because you _wanted_ to take me away? Because you thought I was just like you? Because you thought it'd be _fun_?" Marisa was shouting, now. Years of unasked questions and unsolved issues were boiling to the surface now.

"And teaching _me_? Like this? Did you just forget how to enjoy magic after you died? Because if you did, I don't know why you're still here at all! Everyone who killed you is GONE!"

Marisa stomped her foot with the last word. It was hard, impulsive as she was, not to simply begin firing.

Mima, it seemed, knew this. She always knew _something_ annoying. "Is this a challenge, then?"

"No! And that's _exactly_ what's wrong! It's not a challenge, I'm not stronger than you, and I'm just saying that maybe you can't _make_ me care if I'm weak. Maybe I'll just get strong enough to say _sorry_ when I want to, and try to cast whatever I want."

Mima sighed. "And what do you believe I've had the time or the means to learn, hm?"

Once again, Marisa was given pause; Mima had admitted to incapability. And still, she was angry. She almost felt bad.

"Oh, no, you don't _know_ all the rest? So what, are you _scared_ that I'll leave if I start learning other things? Or does it just make you _feel weak_ that you don't know how to do something?"

And, giving into impulse, Marisa blasted small stretches of the ground. "There! _That's_ what you've taught me how to do! How does that matter if I'm not fighting!? I wanted to _learn,_ not fight! _"_

Again, there was silence. Mima was without expression, and Marisa was staring at her, still. Years of frustration had surfaced, now, and every little unfair thing that had ever bothered the witch had returned.

"I'm not like you. I love magic, but I don't _want_ revenge. If it kills me, then it kills me. I'm not going to come back and waste my afterlife being an angry ghost even after this entire world is _done_ being that mean! Why _are_ you still here?"

"That's a good question, Marisa," said Mima. And then, against all the odds, she smiled, and it was neither cruel nor mocking. "And the answer to that, you will know, in time."

"Or maybe I never will!" Marisa gritted her teeth.

"Do you wish to leave? When I said I could not let you, it was in jest. And when I said that you may leave with your life, it was not."

Marisa was silent. She had expected resistance – derision, mockery and contempt, not… this.

"I…" Marisa clenched her fist.

"You may return, if you so choose." Mima sounded sad. She didn't sound angry.

But Marisa was Marisa, and she had been set on the start. "YES! I'm going. I… I don't need you! I left my home before, and it'll be a lot easier this time. So…"

…Why was it so hard to speak? _I'm going. Those were the words._

"So I'm going." Oh. Tears. What.. was she supposed to do with those? What…

Marisa turned and ran.

She hadn't been much for crying. Ever. She hadn't cried… well, not since she was a child. It was the kind of thing Mima would have hated anyways.

Taking flight, Marisa figured it was best not to let Mima see. She had… had to go somewhere. She'd figure it out.

＊ ＊ ＊

This time, Marisa woke without any slow shift in awareness. There was… a lot to take in, wasn't there?

For some reason, it had always been hard to think of that last encounter. The entire exchange was just a blur of anger and frustration.

But it was also confusing, and that was important. Mima had told her that she was welcome to return. _Mima_ had seemed… almost serene.

Had she been ready?

Some scars just wouldn't heal if you didn't work through them. Marisa had run away, feeling like she could never return… just like she had at thirteen. It was so different, then, and yet she had felt like she was running from her family again.

And just because of that, without a word or deliberate thought put in, Marisa had decided that she would never return to her old master.

"Well," said Marisa, staring at the ceiling. "Better late than never."

Koishi was lying beside her, silent.

"You okay?" Marisa asked, rolling over.

"You're sad."

"Y'know how it is. 'I wish I knew then what I know now' and all that." Marisa smiled. "I shoulda gone back to see her a long time ago."

"Because you can see how you made mistakes now, right? You felt like you did the first time you ran away." Koishi didn't move, or show too much expression – her presence was a little quiet.

She was… listening. Thinking.

"Yeah." Marisa kept staring at the ceiling. "I thought she'd just snap right back at me. But she didn't. I guess she never minded a confident challenge, but…" _I wasn't even confident. And she knew me._

"She seemed a lot different." Koishi looked at Marisa.

"Well, she got a sense of humor after meeting people and messing around enough. But… that wasn't like her. Not like I knew."

Marisa wasn't quite sure what she thought, yet.

"She did love you." Koishi sat up in bed. Her motions were… smooth, now. Normal. "She was mean to you, and she loved you."

"I think… eh." Marisa shook her head. It was hard to clear old feelings, knowing that today was the day that she'd see Mima again.

"You think she wanted to use you… but she loved you more than she wanted that." Koishi's expression seemed more intense now. "You were her best student, and she could tell you what to do, but…"

"…I was too much like her, and she wanted me to be happy more than she wanted me to be powerful." Marisa smiled – she could _feel_ Koishi straining her own thoughts, trying to read things that Marisa wasn't even sure of. It was an effort she could appreciate.

And it was helpful. "So she let me go. The one she thought was just like her, the one she spent years raising to be her revenge. I was supposed to be her victory, I think. I was supposed to go right down the magician's path, right in the face of everything the village would've been okay with."

Marisa smirked. "Well, she still got that one."

"I can see things. She never apologized, but she stopped fighting. She…"

Marisa's smirk faded. "She wouldn't know how to say sorry, or how to admit if she was wrong. But she'd stop, or leave me alone for a while. And I was too scared to ask, or just tell her what I felt like, right until I just snapped."

Marisa scoffed. She wanted to apologize for all the things that she hadn't seen, back then. In some ways, what kindness or lenience Mima had managed to provide her were… simply the opposite of her existence. And she was a vengeful spirit – Marisa was a human.

"Shhhhh." Koishi put a hand on Marisa's cheek.

"Eh?" Marisa was a little surprised, although given Koishi, she didn't mind.

"You'll get to tell her." Koishi smiled. "But you don't need to worry now, right?"

Marisa smiled back. Koishi was right – it was never that easy, but it was true.

And yet, from what Marisa could feel, Koishi was… really, really happy. She wasn't leaping for joy as she usually would in such a case, and she wasn't rambling without a care, but…

"It's nice, when I can give back," said Koishi, still smiling. "You're finally going to see her. And it won't hurt less now…"

 _But it can finally start to heal._

Marisa remembered the Koishi she had met, and the painful, fragile Koishi that had so recently opened her third eye. And she saw the Koishi that was here now, so happy that she had been able to open up this pathway.

The little satori who had run from hatred – who had sealed herself away for countless years – was strong, now. She had her scars, she saw the scars of others, and now, the thought of her retreating seemed almost alien.

If Marisa had even the slightest belief in fate, it would have seemed almost too convenient that the closing of Koishi's third eye had granted her the odd, emotional powers that allowed her to see so clearly now.

She didn't, of course. Fate, in Gensokyo, was just one of countless forces – something you kicked around when it was in your way.

"I believe in you," said Koishi. She was pacing along the floor, rather than taking her odd, nonsensical routes through the air. Marisa hadn't noticed her leave the bed, of course. "Nothing out there is going to stop Marisa."

The smile she wore looked almost odd on her. And even so, it was beautiful, in its way.

Marisa grinned, and then leapt out of bed. "No, it's not!"

Koishi looked towards the door. Marisa agreed. "Let's go!"

＊ ＊ ＊

Marisa wanted to cry.

And she wanted to laugh.

She cleared some dust away from an old structure. These were the ruins of some old shrine, and they were the ruins where she had found Mima – and, in turn, where Mima had found her.

It was such a strange rush of feelings. Countless little emotional notes made themselves known, preserved from moments that time itself had long since abandoned.

Marisa remembered the desperation of her flight from home, the quiet dread that these ruins had filled her with. She remembered the terror that the vengeful spirit had brought her, at first.

She remembered the deep, endless wonder that the ghost's spell had shown her.

Marisa grinned, although it was insane in a different way than she usually was. She was ready, now, to face the whole of this past.

No. She _wasn't_ ready, and she _wanted_ that. She felt more alive now than she had in a long, long time, and Marisa Kirisame was quite a lively person. She didn't have the slightest clue how this strange, internal journey would end, now, and she was beyond excited to find out.

"Yo!" she shouted, and then she laughed. "I'm back, you crazy old ghost. C'mon out!"

Her voice echoed, just a little, and Marisa took a deep breath. "I know it's been a while. Well, for me. Y'know, human, lifespan, sense of time and all that. You seemed like you got bored, though, so it's probably been a long time for you, too.

"But I'm back, now, and you better not be gone, not after what you told me." Marisa held her grin.

It felt different, this time. There was no dread, no sense of dark or restless intent, no strange collection of energy. Years of aimless and enjoyable research had taught Marisa quite a bit about the spirits of the dead.

And none of them should have worked like this. It was amazing.

In an instant, Mima was known. If Marisa hadn't known better, she would have found it abrupt.

Marisa also realized that this meant that she could have seen it coming every time Mima had appeared and vanished before. It was an odd little note – but once again, it was a new view on what had happened.

"For all you kept tellin' me, you sure are one of a kind, huh?" Marisa waved.

Mima was before her now, and she looked just as she had, years ago. The same, odd wizard's outfit that paralleled Marisa's own clothes – which, despite some adjustment, were still very much a witch's garb, all these years later.

Marisa knew what that odd presence of the ghost meant. It held some of the spirit's sentiment, but for her to feel the appearance in such a deep, visceral manner… it was an involuntary display of power.

Mima smirked, and Marisa chuckled as she forced herself to ignore years of fearful reflex.

"Welcome back, Marisa." And then, the ghost… stretched. "My, I've overslept. You've certainly kept me waiting."

Marisa's grin became a little more sheepish. "What can I say? I've been busy."

"I can see," said Mima. "You ran away to live your life as you chose, and you've still grown. I suppose that drive was what made you a true magician… more than any teaching.

"But to me, you'll still be the little magician girl, you know!" Mima chuckled.

"Y'know, I always wondered how strong you really were," said Marisa. "And now, just when I think I've figured it out, I realize you're holding your presence back. Did you _always_ do that?"

Mima raised an eyebrow. "Clever," she said, smiling. "One never could keep you from inquiring into things better left unknown."

"That's okay, I'm clean now! I'm an upstanding, proper magician." Marisa was herself, lying and joking and grinning. She was all of herself, all of what she was now. And this showed much of what she was then. It was a strange, strange mirror.

Mima, now, was a bridge between worlds. A spirit between life and death… and a teacher between present and past.

"Well, if you must ask… only for your sake. Humans are too easily discouraged as is." Mima chuckled. "Or perhaps, were. You seem quite driven, Marisa."

"Try me." And then, Marisa began to cast a spell, weaving one improvised ritual after another.

It was a difficult, complicated spell that she had devised, and she knew it like the back of her own hand.

Pulsing runes drew themselves through the air in color, and then burst into sparks, burning out at seemingly random intervals. Bolts of magical lightning streaked almost without control, burning paths into the ground.

 _To the inexperienced or the blind, it will seem as if this spell is simply a series of failures, magic left uncontrolled and overwhelming itself._

Marisa remembered countless equations, found in successive trial and error. It was an exacting spell.

Pieces of the ruins glowed and shattered. Tiny portions of soil caught fire and then went out.

 _Each failure is careful and deliberate. To overpower, time and again, without any failure from the user, will have an effect. If the spell is uncontrolled, but the caster remains in control, then the caster can continue to maintain their focus, despite the effects of each broken spell._

And then, there was a blinding light, and a sound like crashing thunder.

 _To pull the world into these failures is important, and one must be mindful of their surroundings. What catches fire before it goes out? Where do the little bolts of lightning strike? How bright is the light that blinds you?_

And then, Marisa breathed in… and put everything she had forth.

 _Every little seeming failure is a tiny break in the barrier that we all know. As long as you can control this spell through all these failures, then through both effort and power, those barriers can be shattered._

The blinding light grew. The crashing was deafening.

And then, light faded, and sound fell silent.

Marisa grinned. "Sorry," she said. "Some things, I just have to know!"

ᅟ

"That _idiot!_ "

Koishi turned around, a little surprised at the sound of Alice's voice.

"The _one_ natural protection our bodies have, the _one_ completely effortless thing that keeps magic even _slightly_ safe, and she invents some _impossible_ spell to _break_ it! Of course she would!"

Koishi could feel the magic in the air. A little bit of it was her own – a strange sensation, new to this odd spell – and a lot of it was Alice, who was, after all, a magician.

"Hi!" Koishi waved.

Alice jumped.

"Oops, sorry." Koishi forgot she had been hiding.

"It's alright. Just… try to stay quiet. We're under a spell, right now, so she won't hear us, but… it's _Marisa_."

Alice gave an irritated grunt. "Of course. It removes natural self-protection for _everyone_ around. Of _course_ it would."

"Self-protection?" asked Koishi. Alice had a few too many thoughts going to figure out the concept from.

"It's the only helpful reflex widely considered beneficial with regards to magic," said another voice.

It was Patchouli. She was breathing quite heavily. "My apologies; teleportation is costly magic, and I am not in the… best of physical conditions."

Alice looked over to the other magician. "I didn't think I'd see _you_ here."

"As much of an abomination as Kirisame's magic is, some phenomena would be a great waste not to document."

And then, she looked back to Koishi. "We all have some reflex for self-preservation, and magic is not entirely conscious in its nature. As such, for any magician not actively seeking death, the body – and the magic it uses – will hold back a considerable fraction of any spell's force when cast.

"In this, magic is exhausting, but it is unlikely – barring more difficult rituals, or unfortunate pre-existing physical conditions – to harm the wielder. And in this zone, it appears that somehow, all magic's response to the simplest cautionary reflex has been nullified."

"It's _basic self-preservation,_ " said Alice. She was quite frustrated. Koishi couldn't help but find it a little funny.

"This was Kirisame's doing?" And then, Patchouli raised one hand, coughing. "I suppose I should keep my own casting to a minimum, then."

"Is it a hard spell?"

Alice looked to Patchouli, who in turn repeated what Alice had said before. "It is, in theory, impossible." The magician sighed. "To think, what Kirisame could do if she didn't so despise all proper magical order."

"If it starts spreading, I'm going to kill her." It was Reimu, who, as ever, looked nothing more than annoyed. _Really_ annoyed, this time.

Koishi put her arms out. "Don't get in the way," she said, feeling her own fear rise. "Not yet. Not until Marisa's done. Please."

"Why would I do _that?_ " Reimu put one hand on her hip, looking altogether unimpressed. "I'd rather step on her after she's done. Marisa at _more_ than full power?"

"When Marisa's this set on something, there's no point. I wouldn't worry," said Alice. "It's not even safe for us to use magic here, right now." she added, glancing to a recovering Patchouli.

Patchouli, all physical struggles aside, had already produced a notebook. She clearly didn't plan to miss this.

ᅟ

"…Two and a half years," said Marisa. "Two thousand and forty three tries. Seven versions."

"There were mages who could have attempted this for a century and failed." Mima chuckled.

"Of course! They'd be trying to do everything _right_."

And then, Marisa's grin fell away. "You're _really_ strong, huh?"

She could feel her old fear, feel the old Marisa thinking that Mima would be quite angry if she asked her next question.

The present Marisa Kirisame would have none of that. "Was revenge that important to you?"

"I see that you've abandoned your respect in all these years." Mima frowned.

"Nah," said Marisa. "I just changed what respect means to me. Can't stand running away."

"Hmph." Mima gave a brief sideways glance, and then threw one arm out, darkening the area to counteract her own, bright emanations. She didn't seem _entirely_ pleased about Marisa's spell.

"Well, was it? How long did you take? You told me a lot about how hard things I did would be for most people, but look at you!"

"It was," said Mima. "I had my revenge, and I was prepared to take it again. I would be a dead heretic, and their kind would be dead fools. Three centuries."

Marisa was quiet. Mima had cared so much about power, and there was always that bitter determination behind her motives. She would never lose to any callous, discriminating force again. And with her powers, she would destroy those forces.

"Well, tell me, then," said Marisa. "Just as one magician to another..."

And Mima smiled. It was distant.

"When you were alive, did you want to become stronger?"

"No." And then Mima laughed, looking to the sky. "I wanted to be like you, Marisa Kirisame."

Marisa's heart skipped a beat. "Like me, huh?"

"Open, free, without a care in the world I didn't choose. When you are dead, the world holds far less wonder to you. More so, still, after centuries."

Marisa could feel her own magic, even at rest. The measures that magic and the body alike took to protect the caster were not insignificant.

It made her remember the sting of her first few spells.

"'fraid I don't choose all my cares," said Marisa. "I tried to leave this behind, you know."

"You have come to face it on your own terms, nonetheless," said Mima. "You've grown more than I'd have thought."

Marisa smiled, even as feelings of confusion and pain from years ago stirred.

"Revenge was not the only thing, in the end, however." Mima chuckled. "I found a promising little girl, some years back. She reminded me of myself – although she probably knows that now!"

Marisa chuckled. "I'm not like you, now, am I?"

"No," said Mima. "But you could have been. It is why I knew you would leave me."

... _That_ one was news. "You knew?"

"You were always focused and headstrong. When you started arguing, it was obvious what would happen."

"I thought you wanted me to be your revenge." It was hard to ignore so many old feelings, now, and Marisa was starting to let them out.

"At first, yes. To take the child of the hateful, and turn her into what they hated most… it was a satisfying idea."

"And then I got in your way when they came for me."

"I was angry," said Mima. "But not enough to cast you away. Your potential was worth more than petty revenge."

"Petty?" Marisa was shocked. _Mima_ had called it _petty_ revenge?

"Those who murdered me are long dead. Your village was nothing to me." Mima waved a hand dismissively.

"Well, for what it's worth, they sure as hell don't like me," said Marisa. She grinned; she was quite alright with that fact.

"You fled them on your own." Mima shook her head. "But yes, in the end, you were more important to me than revenge."

And then, Mima smiled. "Come out, little one," she said, looking to Koishi. Oh, Koishi was there.

Koishi, on the other hand, looked surprised. "I was hiding," she said, tilting her head.

"You are bound closely to my old student," said Mima. "I can see that quite well. What is your name?"

"Koishi! Koishi Komeiji." Koishi stared at Mima.

"Well, well!" Mima chuckled. "It is nice to meet you, Koishi. I can see that you've taken good care of my little Marisa~"

Ah, yes. The mockery. Marisa laughed, too.

"How did you see me?" Koishi still looked a little perturbed. "Marisa's the only person who can find me like that…"

"A old spirit like myself must be bound to something of this world," said Mima, smiling. "And we can see that which is closely tied to our anchor."

"…oh! So…" Koishi paused a moment, thinking. "So you're tied to Marisa now!"

Marisa's train of thought crashed.

Oh. _Oh_.

"Indeed I am. I have taken my revenge, and Gensokyo, as I'm sure Marisa has noticed, is much kinder now." Mima raised one hand, and Koishi watched as tiny currents of magic drew themselves into a strange weave.

Marisa could feel the spell's echoes. Mima spoke again.

"You wished to ask something of me, yes?"

Koishi looked surprised… and then, once again, focused. "Yeah." She met Mima's gaze, and Marisa could feel her rising anxiety. "I wanted you to apologize to Marisa."

And then, Mima laughed, and it was genuine. "And just like that, you lead her here? No wonder she's so fond of you."

Mima turned to Marisa. "It's true," she said. "There is much to apologize for. Very well…"

Silence fell between the three before Mima spoke again.

"I am sorry, Marisa. For all the ways in which I tried to take you down my path – and not your own. I am sorry for the kindnesses I couldn't show. This world has not been kind – yours will be."

And, again, silence fell. Marisa felt… strange. Where past and present had merely been bridged before, they were now becoming hard to tell apart.

"Thank you." Koishi looked up, tilting her head up towards the sky… and then looking back to Mima. "I don't know how you were. I know you tried. And I know you loved Marisa. I love her too, even if it's a different way. And I know you don't like to admit being wrong."

"…It is different, now." Mima looked into the distance. "In the last of these years, I've been tied to life. Revenge is dead, and Marisa is quite alive. And from that…" Mima smiled. "I am, perhaps, at some peace. In the end, the last I could hope for would be that somebody once like me," she said, gesturing to Marisa, "would go on to live life by her own choice, and find some measure of happiness."

"That she has far passed any expectations I could have as a magician, of course, is… well, Marisa has always been exceptional."

"And here I am," said Marisa. Now… now, she _was_ ready. "It's been a long time. I still gotta ask the stupid question: why me?"

Koishi hopped into the air as Marisa spoke.

"Because you were like me, and because my revenge was long finished. The only thing left I could hope for from this world was to live through another, in a sense."

"You can't live your life through anyone else," said Marisa. "They're always their own person."

Mima nodded. "But to see that your life has succeeded in its own path is a great comfort, still."

And then, Marisa felt… strange. Sad, happy, and once again unready. "So… are you going, then?"

Mima smiled. Again, to all of Marisa's past, the expression seemed alien. And to the present, it seemed right. "When you are prepared for it, yes."

Marisa laughed, and this time, she didn't stop for a while. "I getcha. Man, I didn't think I'd get a following, annoying everyone, but...

"Well, there's one thing left that I have to ask." Marisa grinned. "Hey, Koishi?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm gonna need you to stand waaaay back."

"Okay!" And, in an instant, Koishi was out of the way.

"I see," said Mima, and her odd smile became the devious smirk that Marisa knew. "One last test, is it?"

"You know it!"

And then, Marisa pulled out her hakkero. The spark that she'd 'borrowed' and used was after Mima's time.

She had never used it without restraint.

So, of course, she pointed, she prepared, and she fired.

The surge of energy hurt, but it was manageable. It felt good, even – it spread throughout Marisa's body, a strange buzzing. It was like her first spells all over again, but a thousand times stronger.

And this time, Marisa was still in control.

She grinned. One final test, indeed.

ᅟ

Koishi watched the strange display of light from a distance. She could feel both of them, perfectly involved in this odd dance.

They knew each other. They knew each other's magic, and for all the novelties and tricks that had been learned or held back before, it wasn't enough to gain an edge.

And that was okay. To them, that was perfect. Everything that words would not say, magic and firepower would.

It was dangerous. This wasn't a spell card duel. This was a strange, unique dialogue between the two, and magic, here, was unrestrained.

Koishi, feeling things well in advance, sidestepped a blast from Marisa, and in an instant, it dug a deep hole in the ground as it burst.

Another streak of this light – this time Mima's – burst into sparks as a barrier intercepted its stray path.

Reimu grimaced. "This isn't safe." She turned towards Alice and Patchouli, who were in turn still watching, and shouted. "Get _out_ of here!"

They didn't move. Koishi moved through the air, dodging another, full-blown spark as it went up. The sky was blinding, for a moment, and then the beam was gone.

Alice shook her head. "We can tell. Sorry, but we're staying."

Reimu muttered a curse. "Fine, see if I care. I've gotta—"

Koishi was now quite distinctly in Reimu's away. Once again, her arms were outstretched. "Don't."

"Those aren't spellcards," said Reimu, amulets already in hand.

"I know. They can't win, though." Koishi wouldn't move. Reimu was angry, and it scared her. "But Marisa needs this. They both do. Please."

Reimu raised her gohei, and for a moment, she was glowing. Koishi wouldn't move, still.

And then, Reimu stopped. "Fine. But she's already in a lot of trouble." And then, she cast a sideways glance towards Alice and Patchouli. "Idiots."

Koishi took a deep breath. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet," said Reimu.

ᅟ

Celestial bodies and marks of the night sky had been repainted, all in world-bound magic. This wasn't a spell card duel – it wasn't safe, either – but it had its own beauty.

Marisa knew Mima's magic. And to her surprise, she could read it, could still see all the same patterns she had known before.

It was impossible to decisively overwhelm Mima – and impossible for Mima to do the same to Marisa. They were, against all odds, evenly matched.

Marisa wondered if this was what would always happen, if they were so linked. She doubted it, though – this was the same magic that she had been taught from the start.

"Is that all?" Mima smiled, as another veil of magical smoke cleared.

"Almost," said Marisa. "Just one last trick, y'know?"

Marisa grinned, lining up one more spark. Magic and a lack of spell card rules as they were, being a comet probably wasn't the best idea. Besides, weren't ghosts incorporeal… sometimes? That one was always strange in Gensokyo.

But one last spark – one _Final Spark_ – wasn't a bad way to end any duel.

Holding the hakkero out in both hands, Marisa inhaled. No restraint, no safety, no heed.

 _Well, here goes everything._

Marisa fired, and physical feeling began to leave her. Her arms were quick to numb, and the rest of her body didn't seem too pleased with her, either. She was definitely losing ground.

Oh, no, she was _literally_ losing ground – the ground underneath her. It seemed to be breaking apart. Marisa had some defensive wards – how else was one to survive the occasional high-velocity collision? – and she sure hoped they worked here.

Still, she stood on whatever she could, even without feeling in her arms. This was _definitely_ more than was safe, and more than her body was meant to take.

That was, of course, entirely her style.

Shouting, Marisa put everything she had – all of the pulsing, burning magic she could still feel – through the hakkero that she couldn't feel… and then, let go.

The light began to fade, and the strange, baritone roar of the spark began to quiet. Marisa still couldn't see – or hear – anything very well.

And there Mima was, right on the other end, smiling. There was no magic about her, now, beyond a faint trace of her presence.

"That's…" The hakkero fell from Marisa's hands, and she let out a little laugh. "That's all I got, I think."

Mima smiled, and raised a hand. It was… transparent, now. "It's enough. That was a brilliant display." She smiled.

"Was it?" Marisa tried to stand straight. It was a little hard. She didn't feel so well.

"Yes," said Mima. "And you will continue to grow, from here."

"What about you?" Marisa took a deep breath. She was… a little out of it.

"Well…" Mima seemed just a little hard to see. "I'm satisfied."

"Satisfied?"

"With you! You're as brilliant as always… and you're in good hands."

Mima gestured, now, to the others, and Marisa looked back. "Oh, hey Reimu—oh. _Oh._ " Marisa took one look at Reimu's face. Even like this, it wasn't hard to read. "I'm in trouble, aren't I?"

Marisa was a little surprised that Reimu's glare didn't wither the forest around her.

Then she looked to Alice. "Hey, Alice." And then to Patchouli. "…hey, you didn't know Mima! What brought you?"

"Unorthodox or otherwise, it'd be a shame if this was lost to history." And then, Patchouli glanced back to Mima.

Marisa turned back. "So… what now?"

Mima was still smiling. "I'm afraid that my time is running out."

"…yeah." Marisa shook her head. "Is that okay?"

"It is because I am at peace that I am now fading, Marisa. Your progress is, as ever, beyond all expectation, and I would trust your friends with nearly anything you have. But for now…"

Mima raised one hand, watching it fade. "Do you have anything else to say?"

Marisa smiled, although she could feel tears welling up. Her past told her to hold them back, but she didn't care much for restraint, now.

"Yeah," she said. "Thanks for taking me in, all those years back. It was hard, and it wasn't always happy… but I got to learn the thing I loved, and that's why I'm here now. Even if I wound up leaving like I did, it was worth it. And I mean… you probably saved my life. I dunno where I'd have gone. So… thank you."

Mima closed her eyes, still smiling. "Then thank you, too, Marisa, for showing me the world that you lived in." said Mima, looking to the sky. "It's been fun."

"Yeah," said Marisa. Her voice cracked a little. This time, she knew she was crying. It wasn't so surprising.

What happened next, on the other hand, was.

Mima… hugged her. It was a light touch – she was a spirit, and she was fading – but it was there. And again, it occurred to Marisa that she may have been the only person her teacher had ever loved, in her own, strange way.

Mima had been like her, once. And it had ended in death and injustice. And yet…

By living her own life, by walking a road so far from that first end, Marisa had brought some measure of closure that the spirit had never had.

Marisa hugged her teacher back. It was… faint, and the moment seemed to stretch.

And then, at last, she was gone. Marisa held nothing, and felt no presence.

Was… that it? Was it finally over?

Marisa took a deep breath. It was.

She was still crying.

"Rest well, you." Marisa almost choked on her words. It was hard to speak, and hard to see. She was tired, and in closure, she had lost her old teacher.

Finally, she turned to the other. "Sorry," she said, offering a small, sheepish grin. "I'm not the cool witch today, I guess."

Alice looked down – she was the most sympathetic, and she knew Marisa well. Of the three who had come to watch, she would understand Marisa's pain best.

But Reimu could tell, too. She looked… sad, even. Frustrated and angry, still, but it was clear that she was concerned. It was a strange mix of emotions, on a person who usually showed few.

Patchouli, on the other hand, spoke first.

"I did not know your old teacher," she said, stepping forward. "So there is little I can offer. I can, on the other hand, give you this much: if you will opt for once to tell the truth, then I will catalogue whatever of your old teacher you so choose tell me."

"Didn't know _you'd_ care," said Marisa.

"Irritations aside, you are an exceptional magician." Patchouli shrugged.

"Oh c'mon, nobody told _you_ about that!"

Koishi giggled, and then… stopped abruptly. Her eyes widened. "Marisa."

"Eh?"

"You're hard to feel."

"Oh." Marisa raised one hand. "Yeah. Little bit off. Hold on…"

And then, she turned to Reimu. "Well, if you gotta punish me, it won't take much effort now, right?"

Reimu, on the other hand, had lost her grouchy expression entirely. What was up with that? "Marisa, you're…"

"I'm… oh." Marisa realized that instead of feeling her arms again, she was instead able to feel even less of her body now. "Ehh, I'm… uh… fine?"

Alice's expression looked a little more urgent as she called something out. Marisa couldn't hear what it was.

And then, Marisa felt Koishi on the verge of panic, and she realized that the world was very, very hard to see, now.

She took a couple more steps, and then her legs didn't want to move. Still, that was close enough.

Marisa reached out with an arm she could barely feel, trying to put it around Koishi. Then, she tried to think a comforting thought, fell short of anything that made sense, and unceremoniously collapsed.


	21. Chapter 21 - From Home

"Well, she's stable," said Alice. "Her magic is there, too. She's not awake, but she's not dying."

Alice looked to Koishi, who was sitting quietly, holding Marisa's hand. Of the two, Alice personally felt that Koishi was going to come out of this experience more scarred than Marisa… who was currently lying comatose.

" _Idiot_." Reimu sighed. Alice could tell that the shrine maiden was worried, although she did a pretty good job of hiding it, in her usual way.

Alice was a little worried too. For the most part, it was just Marisa being reckless – one explosion or another being a factor of twenty or thirty times as strong as some poorly-made calculation would indicate had certainly left the witch unconscious or injured before.

In each case, she was either not found at all, or found some time later when Alice checked in out of suspicion. Either way, she had always survived.

On the other hand, this was new, and everything that Alice knew about magic indicated this should be incredibly serious.

Still, it was Marisa, and that made any worry more of an annoyance than anything else.

If anything had stuck with her to keep her concern clear in her mind, it was Koishi's reaction. And, in fact, Alice thought, that had probably left some mark on everybody. Even Patchouli, who by all appearances was calmly reading to the side.

The satori had, well, panicked. She was brave, but Marisa was her rock in many ways – when she collapsed, Koishi had been quite frantic. And… everyone could feel it. Alice could easily recall that deep, unstable terror. It wasn't pleasant… and it wasn't hers.

And now Koishi was waiting, utterly focused only on Marisa. She hadn't left the witch's side since Alice had brought her home – well, to Alice's home. It was closer, for one, and it didn't have arbitrary traps all over.

Koishi took a deep breath. "You're not as worried," she said. She was still looking at Marisa, still holding on.

"I've been around Marisa a lot longer," said Alice. "It's not the first time she's knocked herself out." _Or the second, or the third…_

Koishi nodded. "But everyone's worried."

Reimu grimaced. Alice shrugged. "It's not like she's at no risk – it's just not exactly surprising, anymore."

Patchouli lowered her book for a moment. "People tend not to survive uncontrolled magic, especially when wielded so recklessly. That said, it's Kirisame. I've no doubt she'll be fine."

"Then why're you here?" Koishi tilted her head, and finally looked away from the witch. From Koishi, it was a genuine question.

"Well, for one, it's a novel condition – again, worth documenting. But that aside, I can in fact choose to stay for the recovery of one who, despite all her annoyances, could perhaps be considered a friend." As was often the case, the magician showed little to no expression. "Which reason you might believe is a matter of personal preference in your interpretation."

Reimu, on the other hand, was silent, and Koishi seemed to shy away from her. If Alice had to guess, it meant that there was anger mixed in with any concern she had.

"My house isn't meant for this many, so I'm afraid my hospitality will be limited," said Alice, now looking around, "but you're free to stay, if you want."

"Thanks," said Koishi. Patchouli gave a quiet nod, and Reimu… well, she was annoyed, still.

And then, Marisa moved.  
ᅟ

Marisa's head hurt. A lot. It was pounding, it was hard to see, and nothing she could hear made sense yet.

The witch sat up, and then pain blinded her. It was really hard to tell what was happening. Everything was so _bright_.

She shook her head, and it hurt more, but… focus. Someone was holding her hand.

Oh. Koishi.

Where had she been…?

"My head hurts." That was her own voice. Okay. "Dammit."

Marisa sat up. The motion hurt her head more. This sucked.

Still, the pain wasn't as blinding, now. "Hey, Koishi…"

Koishi didn't look very happy.

Wait, this wasn't her house.

"…oh." Marisa began to recall the events of… whenever it was before she collapsed. Notably including the fact that she had collapsed. "Uh… sorry?"

Marisa fell back down as Koishi tackled her. "Hey, you."

She could feel… well, a lot of relief, now, but the amount of anxiety that was giving way to that relief was… more than Marisa had felt since Koishi had first opened her third eye.

"I was worried." Koishi was holding on so tightly that it was a little hard to breathe.

"Worried was an understatement," said Patchouli.

"Oh, hey Patchy," said Marisa. "What're you doing here?"

"I wanted to be present in case you happened to die," she said. "So I can get my books back as soon as possible."

Marisa could _feel_ the glare that Koishi gave Patchouli, and despite her splitting headache, she laughed.

"It was a joke," said Patchouli, raising a hand. "As I said, I am choosing to consider Marisa a friend, if you are so capable of believing that. _If_ it is too much to believe that I could happen upon any emotion, then you are free to invent motives as you like."

"See? I'm irresistible!" Marisa grinned. She was trying to ignore the headache, now.

Okay, Koishi was still weighing down the mood a little.

"Was it _that_ bad?" Marisa asked.

"I don't believe Koishi's been around any of the times I've found you out cold," said Alice. "She was, as she said, worried."

"Ah, jeez, it's okay," said Marisa. "I'm okay. I just take my chances!"

Finally, Koishi let go. "Sorry," she said, looking down.

"For what?"

"Getting so worried. You stopped thinking, or feeling. I didn't know if you'd get up." Koishi shook her head. "Alice knew you weren't dead. She brought you here really fast."

"I didn't think you were in too much danger," said Alice. "But nobody's ever really done what you just did, and I figured it couldn't hurt."

"Thanks," said Marisa. "Sorry about the scare; I just… well, long story."

Marisa sighed, but… being a little more open wasn't that hard, right now. For one, everyone saw, and for two, she was just plain out of it. "I wanted to see how I measured up, 'cause she was always so far above me, way back. Felt like it, at least."

"That was an incredibly dangerous spell," said Patchouli. "While I am well aware that exceptions tend to be the rule with you, it's still amazing that you're awake now."

Marisa looked at her hands. She could feel them, now. "Well, I don't think even I should be casting for a while…" Marisa hopped out of bed – oh, no, that was Alice's couch. It'd been a while since she'd woken up there. "I don't think I'll be using it again, if it's worth anything."

Marisa started to pace. Her body still felt a little sluggish. Koishi was still very noticeably worried.

And then, Marisa lost track of events as something – as Reimu grabbed her by the collar roughly.

"What—"

"Those weren't harmless spells, and _those weren't spell cards."_

Marisa looked Reimu in the eyes. She was _furious_. Not annoyed, not throttling the witch because it was more convenient – she was really, really angry.

"…oh…" Marisa searched for words. This was a little surprising. She'd never seen Reimu like this.

"There were no witnesses," Alice cut in. Even she sounded pretty frantic. "Mima saw to that. There was an illusion—"

" _You broke the rules_." Reimu's grip tightened, and Marisa raised her hands in surrender. There wasn't a witty and irritating way out of this one.

And then, Marisa held a hand out. "Don't," she said, as Koishi moved. Koishi was… terrified. Reimu had to be _really_ angry. "Please."

Koishi froze, although she didn't back off. Marisa turned her attention back to the shrine maiden. "I'm sorry, I… yeah, I broke all the important rules. Without even thinking about it."

Reimu glared, but said no more. She was clearly trying _very_ hard not to do anything rash.

"…hey," said Marisa, breathing in as much as she could. Her body felt cold now – If she wasn't consciously afraid, her nerves were still quite active. "Give me today," she said. "Just today. I'll turn myself in, I'll meet you at the shrine tomorrow morning. Nobody needs to watch."

The important rules – the spellcard rules – were very, very important. There was 'extermination', and then there was very real extermination, and breaking those rules very much invited the latter.

And Marisa had broken the important rules, through and through. That wasn't safe magic, and that wasn't discreet personal business – that was an all-out magicians' battle with no rules to it. No rules, and very, very dangerous spells.

"I couldn't do it by those rules," Marisa went on. "Not with Mima. She's never…" Marisa trailed off. "I'll be there, okay? I broke the _real_ rules."

"You…" Reimu gritted her teeth.

"…I can leave, too. I can run." Marisa, against her usual self, was simply baring her throat now. It's not as if Reimu was _wrong_. "If you don't want to—"

Marisa wasn't sure where Reimu's gohei had came from, but it _hurt_. It wasn't the casual swing of an irritated Reimu sticking amulets to something she wanted to go away, or anything like spell cards.

Marisa hit the floor.

" _Forget it,_ " said Reimu. Marisa didn't roll over in time to see her storm off.

She heard the door slam, and then started to pick herself up.

"Well," she said. "That happened."

Koishi hugged her again. "You were thinking of death," said the satori. She was shaking.

"I didn't think she was gonna do it. But… some rules, you really don't wanna break here. It makes sense."

"There were no witnesses," said Patchouli. "It hardly seems to make a difference."

"Call her as lazy as you like," said Marisa, "but she takes that part of her job seriously. I broke the rules, and now she's gone and made an exception, and that… well, where d'you draw the line then?"

Alice shook her head. "I've never seen her that angry."

"Neither have I," said Marisa, shaking her head.

And then, Koishi let go. "She was… afraid. She was really scared, too. Angry, but scared."

Marisa knew that Koishi had seen countless people that were both terrified and angry – it was the picture of prejudice. If she was mentioning it in such a manner, then this was different from whatever Koishi had seen then.

"…Well, I mean, she thought she was gonna have to kill me."

The sentence sat in the air for some time. In almost any other context, it would be a joking context.

Marisa went on. "I broke the spell card rules, and then went about throwing a lot of dangerous magic around. If it threatened the village, or somebody else got hurt…"

"She'd have to…" Koishi trailed off.

"She's a big softy," said Marisa. "Of course she'd be terrified of having to kill me. She really, really doesn't wanna do that."

Marisa sighed. "I dunno if she _could_. But she'd have to try."

"But she didn't." Koishi's fear had subsided, but she was still recovering.

"Mima covered for me. Nobody saw except us, and none of us are gonna go snitch. Nobody important is gonna care, but… well, she does her job. And she didn't do it, there."

Patchouli lowered her book. "The rules are clear, and you broke them," she said. "And the punishment is unambiguous."

"Yeah. She puts a lot of stock in the rules, but…" Marisa shook her head. "She doesn't value them more than my life. Like I said, she's a softy."

"You're lucky," Alice said. "If your old teacher hadn't thought of what you missed…"

"Then we'd be stuck between a rock and a hard place." Marisa grimaced. "Yeah."

There was a moment of silence, and then Marisa yawned. In spite of what just happened, she was still tired. And, of course, that stupid, splitting headache wasn't going away. "I think I'm gonna head home, if that's alright."

"That's fine," said Alice. And then, "do you need a lift?"

"…Eh?"

"You were going to try to fly without even thinking, weren't you?" Alice sighed. "I can take you."

"….Oh." And right there, Marisa's headache went from annoying to… well, a big headache: she couldn't come up with any witty or ridiculous response in her usual seconds. "You sure?"

"Compared to getting you here, it'll be easy." Alice shrugged.

"Well, alright." Marisa stretched. "I'll… probably take you up on that offer, Patchy. Just not quite yet."

"I'll be prepared, then." Patchouli waved. "If that's all, I think I'll be going, too."

"Alright," said Alice. And then, turning to Marisa. "You want to head out now?"

"Yeah," said Marisa. "I need to rest in a _real_ house."

Alice sighed. "Of course you do."

＊ ＊ ＊

"Are you going to be okay?"

Koishi was still afraid. She didn't like it – fear was always a terrible thing to feel, but it also made her feel… weak. Like she was still stuck in her past.

"Yeah," said Marisa. She was trying, but she was still tired, and she was in pain. "I'll be fine. Just gotta…" She sighed. "Get some rest."

"She's resilient," said Alice. Koishi could see all the little calculations that went into the dolls now carrying Marisa. They were… complicated, but they didn't feel like it – Alice knew them all by heart. "She'll be back up and annoying everyone in a day or two."

Koishi thought back to her fear. Marisa had gone quiet when she had collapsed, and while Koishi had been ready to face a lot of things… she wasn't ready for Marisa's presence to disappear like that. The world just… felt unsafe again.

And then, of course, there was Reimu, who was… really, really angry.

"Is Reimu going to be okay?"

Marisa felt… guilty.

"I think so," said the witch. "In the end, nobody was hurt, so… there's nothing she has to hold against me. She really doesn't like breaking those rules, though.

"She was afraid. Not just about you." Koishi wasn't sure just why Reimu's anger had been mixed with that urgent fear, but… it had. It was nothing like the hate and fear she had seen from others before – Reimu was simply both angry and terrified.

"…I'll let you know when I figure it out," said Marisa. "I'm gonna go out tomorrow. And I'm pretty sure she'll find me."

And then, again, Marisa felt guilty. "I think that one's gotta be just me and her, though. I'll be home today, and home after, though, okay? We can talk. I can go find her later, if you want."

Right now, Koishi wanted more time, but… not more than she wanted Marisa to be able to solve things. "It's okay. As long as you're safe," said Koishi. "I'm still scared. I just want to be safe. Not forever, but…"

"Yeah, I feel ya." Marisa smiled, and there was some warmth, now. "I'm not gonna go and blow myself up again for a while. Reimu's not gonna fight me or anything."

"Okay," said Koishi. And then she paused, feeling some odd, kind thoughts from Alice.

A doll was patting her on the head. A doll was patting _Marisa_ on the head, although the witch was quick to swat it off. "Hey!"

"Sorry," said Alice, smiling. "It's just nice to see you two communicating – and without Marisa lying every other sentence!"

"I told you already, I don't lie!" Marisa laughed. "I just forget things. Right, Koishi?"

Koishi giggled. "Yeah!"

Alice sighed. "It's a little less nice to see the partnership in crime, though."

Marisa grinned. And then winced, and then kept grinning. Pain didn't seem to hold her back much.

"Alright," said Alice. "We're here."

＊ ＊ ＊

"See ya," said Marisa, waving to a departing Alice.

Now, she was home. It felt strange, coming home after what had happened.

But this was the present. This was her home _now,_ her home away from the past.

She smiled, and then hugged Koishi.

Koishi held on for a while.

"You okay?" Marisa gave the satori a pat on the head.

"Not yet." Koishi kicked at the floor – it was something she did if she was nervous or uncertain.

"Well, want to talk about it?" Marisa knew that answer to that was almost always affirmative.

"Yeah."

"Alright." Marisa crawled into her bed, blinking a couple times. Her headache, while still there, was much less prominent now. "So, what's up?"

Koishi followed her into bed, curling up on top of her. "I'm still afraid."

"I can tell," said Marisa. Koishi's was sharing her emotions now, as she often did. "What's scary?"

"I hadn't thought about what happens if you die." Koishi closed her eyes. "The world doesn't feel as nice when I think about it."

Marisa was quiet; she could tell Koishi wasn't done. She thought her usual small, comforting mantras, and tried to feel her own comfort and acceptance. Koishi wasn't wrong – Marisa was very much mortal.

"I want to see the future with you. And you showed me how to be excited about the future, and that the world is nice again, and…

"And I don't know how to keep it up without you."

Marisa thought about her past thoughts, about all the research she'd done on immortality. It's not as if Alice couldn't help her become a full-blown Youkai Magician, and it wasn't as if there weren't other ways to eternal life – albeit, difficult and unreliable ones.

But although the research and the ideas were fascinating… Marisa didn't like the idea too much. Above everything else, she didn't want to get bored with her life – if she let that happen, then all the things to consider after were right out of anything she wanted to think about.

But the satori, if not immortal, lived far, far longer than a human's lifespan. And leaving Koishi was…

Marisa's emotions struggled. She knew what she'd planned, and what she wanted. And at the same time, the thought of leaving Koishi behind, with centuries of _her_ lifespan left…

Koishi hugged Marisa tightly. "You're not sure."

"I'm not."

"…okay." Koishi took a deep breath. She didn't like thinking about this at all, Marisa could tell.

She was crying a little.

She kept talking. "I don't want you to die all of a sudden, though. I don't… I don't know about the future. If you die years later, and I know you're getting old..."

Koishi frowned. "I don't want you to die. But I don't want to make your life something you don't like. I don't want you to do that just because of me."

The satori hadn't let Marisa go, still. "But… what about things like today? I don't want to feel like this. It's scary."

"Well…" Marisa shook her head. "I'm not gonna do anything _that_ dangerous again. It's… well, pretty much against the rules, and Mima's gone, now."

Those words were still oddly heavy. _I haven't seen her in years, and I'm still going to miss her, huh?_

Koishi nodded at the thought, but let Marisa continue.

"And I've gotten a lot better with… well, with magic. My wards are more reliable, things explode less unexpectedly, and I'm… well, also a little quicker to get outta the way. It's always a little dangerous, but… well, things can go wrong outta nowhere for anyone. I don't think I'm at a huge risk, now." _I might've been, there, but that's over._

"Okay." Koishi was quiet.

"Are you worried about Reimu, too?" Marisa asked, remembering Koishi's fear.

"I still feel scared, but…" Koishi shook her head. "You trust her, and she didn't do anything. It'll be okay."

"Alright," said Marisa. "If you want to come along, you can stay hidden, too," she said, now that she could think about it a little more clearly. "If Reimu's gonna find me, she'll want to just talk to me, but… I don't mind if you're there."

"It's okay," said Koishi. "You're not worried. I feel scared. It hurts." Koishi inhaled. "But it'll be okay."

Koishi didn't seem like she was going to let go any time soon. And, to a tired Marisa, that was perfectly alright.

"Can I stay like this?" asked Koishi. "I want to feel better. I know it takes time."

Marisa smiled. It was always nice how self-aware Koishi was, even when she felt upset.

"It's like you," said Koishi.

"Doesn't mean it doesn't count." Marisa smiled. "I'm still pretty tired…"

"It's okay if you sleep," said Koishi. "I think…" The satori managed a small smile. She was trying – she knew Marisa wasn't the best about worry. "I think I just need time."

"Thanks," said Marisa. _For trying. I know this is difficult for you. I know I'm not good about worrying, and I know it's hard to deal with fear._

"We'll keep trying," said Koishi. Marisa didn't feel like she'd been too reassuring, but Koishi seemed to feel calmer.

"Yeah." Marisa smiled.

"You don't have the answers," said Koishi. "But I know we can keep trying. You don't give up, and you try really hard. So…" Koishi let go of Marisa, and looked her in the eye, still smiling. "I won't either."

Koishi was beautiful, in her own way. Not so much conventionally, but… to Marisa, something shone through about the satori's affectionate resolve. It was hard to trust things that had hurt before, and Koishi wore that pain openly, too.

Maybe others wouldn't see it. Still, it was something Marisa loved.

On an impulse, Marisa leaned forwards and kissed Koishi's forehead. Koishi's smile widened, and then she tackled Marisa again.

"Thank you," she said, closing her eyes. She was still smiling.

"Thank _you,_ " said Marisa. "We'll talk about it tomorrow, okay? After I go see Reimu."

Koishi nodded. "You can see her on your own," she said. "I'll see what you did when you get back."

"Alright."

Marisa laid back. She was tired, and her head hurt, still. Sleep, for once, probably wouldn't take too long.

Koishi was really soft. Not necessarily in the physical sense, but… well, pretty much in every sense.

It was nice.

"I love you," said Marisa. Her consciousness was fading, now, but this still made her happy, in that odd, warm way.

"I love you too," said Koishi, still cuddled up against her. "Good night, Marisa."

"G'night, you."

Marisa closed her eyes, and sleep, for once, was quick to follow.


	22. Chapter 22 - Old Dusty Walls

Marisa's head _still_ hurt.

That was the first thing she noticed as she woke.

"Good morning!"

The second thing she noticed was that Koishi was already awake. Which meant she'd slept in.

Marisa hated recovery. Too much sleep, too little action.

"Morning, you," she said, swinging herself out of bed.

Koishi looked – and felt – a lot better. Marisa, as was often the case, couldn't help but smile. "You're not coming with me today, right?"

"Yeah." Koishi drifted quietly into the air. "I'm gonna go see sis while you're out."

"Sounds like a plan!" Marisa gave Koishi a thumbs-up, smiling; she wasn't sure if she was going to keep that gesture, yet.

Koishi giggled. "Okay!"

Marisa was pretty quick to find her broom and hat. Alice hadn't forgotten either – she knew Marisa well.

Placing her hat on her head, Marisa realized that a satori was clinging to her.

"Hey, you." Marisa ruffled Koishi's hair.

"Are you okay?" asked Koishi. It was a little strange to hear her ask.

She tilted her head at the thought.

"You could tell without asking," said Marisa. "But yeah, I'm okay. Still recovering, still a bit worried, still feeling kinda guilty about Reimu." Still missing Mima, as strange as it was.

Koishi nodded, and let go of Marisa. "You're going."

"Yeah, if Reimu's out to find me on intuition, she'll get impatient." Marisa paused, and then looked at Koishi again. "What about you?"

"I'm okay," said Koishi. "I still want to talk tonight."

"Me too!" Marisa grinned. "Alright, I'm heading out."

＊ ＊ ＊

Koishi lingered for a little as Marisa left. She still felt… well, it was difficult. She knew that she could always talk with Marisa, and she knew that Marisa would try her best to find solutions and ideas that worked for both of them. And she'd try too!

But death was…

They had tried to kill her, once. She was still more afraid of the hatred that had driven them to the attempt.

But Marisa, who lived in the kind, present Gensokyo, and Marisa, who seemed almost invincible sometimes…

That was a death that Koishi feared.

She'd be alone without Marisa. Just like before. She knew there were others, she knew Gensokyo was kinder now, but without Marisa…

Koishi took a deep breath, and thought about the witch. She always tried her best to hold back her fears, to stop and think about whatever was frustrating her.

And so, Koishi did the same. She loved Marisa, and thinking about a world without her hurt. But… it wouldn't change Gensokyo entirely. She wouldn't be alone forever, stuck in a world that hated her.

It felt like the past could come back, just like that… but Marisa would know better. Koishi knew better.

The future was a long way away, and Marisa felt safe now. They'd be alright. They could talk about it, too.

Taking another breath, Koishi pretended she was Marisa, donning that funny grin that the black-white witch always wore. It was time to go. Fears were scary – but they were worth facing.

＊ ＊ ＊

"Yeah, I know, it's a little early to be talking to nobody, isn't it?"

Marisa looked at the old ruins, once again. Parts of them had been obviously disturbed by yesterday's duel, although others remained more or less untouched.

She wasn't sure why Mima had first shown herself here, why it seemed that this ground had been her chosen territory. The old ghost had never been bound to any one place.

"I've always been a little weird, though, right?"

Marisa paced through the ruins, just taking in the past that had… well, passed, now.

She had considered a grave of sorts for her old master, but it seemed… wrong. Mima's life – her first, material life – had been long before Marisa had ever come along. And as a ghost…

It was ultimately of little meaning, now, but such a gesture still seemed wrong.

Perhaps because of Koishi – and the strange revisiting that she had caused – Marisa could remember the ground, here. How it felt, the odd ups and downs of each step. Parts of it had been marred by that final duel, but others remained untouched.

Marisa stopped by a small clearing, and took a seat. This was where she had slept, the first night. Or, at the least, it felt like it was, and in this case, that was enough for Marisa.

And then, she waited. She knew she wouldn't be alone for long.

"I knew I'd find you here."

And sure enough, she wasn't. "Hey, Reimu."

She wasn't entirely sure where Reimu had come from, but that wasn't too important. "Well, you got me. What's up?"

"Idiot." Reimu sat down beside Marisa, although she didn't say anything further.

For the odd time that Reimu _was_ actually troubled, this wasn't all that unusual.

"Yeah," said Marisa. Just this once, she didn't feel like making fun of Reimu. "Sorry."

"What do you _think_ I'm supposed to do?" said Reimu.

"Get rid of threats. Like that." Marisa winced. "Like me, I guess."

Reimu shook her head. "Nobody got hurt. Nobody else saw." She shrugged. "It doesn't matter now, I guess."

Marisa scoffed. "Don't be stupid."

"Shut up," snapped Reimu. It was a little softer than before, though.

"Of course it matters," said Marisa. "You don't like making excuses if it's something important. Hell, you're too lazy to make excuses when it's _not_ important."

Reimu sighed, and Marisa went on.

"So yeah. I'm sorry, 'cause that's a stupid rule to break. It was really important, but…

"But I broke the wrong rules anyways. I wouldn't blame you if you _did_ punish me for it."

Reimu didn't respond, and Marisa fell silent, too. For a moment, the two just looked at the old ruins.

Idly, Marisa wondered if Reimu had any memories of this place. She seemed a little sad, even. It was strange to think about.

It wasn't the Reimu Hakurei that anyone would be used to seeing.

"If nobody knows, and that's done with anyways, then Gensokyo's the same as ever. And she was important to you." Reimu shrugged. "You cause trouble. That's how it is."

Marisa looked at Reimu, who was looking into the distance. "…and if you got rid of me, it wouldn't be Gensokyo, huh? And that's not how it is."

Reimu grimaced, but didn't answer. Still, Marisa understood, now. For all Reimu let in every new incident, every new host of strange visitors and migrants… she didn't really want to _lose_ anything.

It was Gensokyo. People showed up, were annoying, and stayed in all their own, weird ways. That's how it was.

And if something broke that balance, that wouldn't be how it was. If she had to fix something or put down an unruly Youkai, that was one thing, but…

Killing an old friend would change a lot of things.

Marisa went on. "Well, for whatever it's worth, it'll never happen again. Promise."

"When do you ever not lie?" Reimu punched Marisa in the arm, but it was… well, it was Reimu being grumpy, rather than angry or upset.

"Now?" Marisa paused. "You got me!" She grinned.

Reimu glared at her, and Marisa got the strange feeling that she was very close to a large number of applied amulets.

"No, I'm not lying! I just mean I can't prove I'm not lying!" Marisa raised her hands in a hasty gesture of surrender.

Reimu paused for a moment, sighed, and shook her head, apparently opting not to decorate Marisa with various amulets.

Oh. Right. She _was_ still kind of weak. Marisa chuckled, and then relaxed. " _You_ were worried?"

"Of what I'd have to do to you, sure." Reimu rolled her eyes. "You're always gonna be fine on your own."

Marisa laughed again, and the two spent another moment in silence.

It was a little weird, seeing Reimu more than off-handedly irritated.

"I never bothered checking up," said Reimu. "When she stopped visiting. She used to bother me a lot." She shrugged. "Then one day, she didn't for… a few months. And then she never did again."

"I dunno where she went," said Marisa. "I hope I gave her something decent to work with."

"Your girlfriend got in my way."

"Koishi?" Marisa found herself surprised. Not so much that Reimu had planned to interfere – once again, the rules were clear – but that Koishi would intervene, herself. "She—"

"Yeah. Seemed like too much trouble. She said it was really important."

Marisa looked at Reimu, who was frowning.

"…Yeah, it was."

"What was she like to you?"

"…Eh?" Did Reimu just ask a personal question?

"I'm here anyways, I might as well get _something_ interesting out of it."

Reimu stood up, and Marisa followed suit as the shrine maiden began to wander.

"She was harsh," said Marisa. "She was a good teacher. I don't think anyone could've taught me faster."

"Would've made _my_ life a lot easier."

Marisa gave a small laugh, and went on. "She didn't like apologies, she was all-or-nothing on breaks – keep going or give up for the day – and she was really, really focused. She didn't ask for anything she couldn't do.

"She liked you." Marisa shrugged. "You were the first person she really got to see much in a long, long time."

"Except you."

"I was her student," said Marisa. "It was different. She'd already had me for years, by then."

Reimu shrugged. Marisa found her a little hard to read, right now.

"But she was really bitter. I mean, I can't really blame her, but… well, you were there."

"Yeah." Reimu paused, visibly thinking for a moment. "I guess she wasn't really around much after you left."

Marisa shook her head. "I dunno what happened to her. I know how it ended, but…" She shrugged. "She just showed up when I called. It'd been years."

"You were even more important to her," said Reimu. "Doesn't take much to see that."

"I _was_ her, for a bit. An extension, a kid that was like she was – but I guess that didn't last long. My parents came after me when I ran away from the village." Marisa paused, and added, "which was a thing I did."

"Go figure. Normal human parents couldn't keep Marisa down." Reimu sounded distinctly unsurprised.

"Hey! I didn't know _any_ magic then. They got all angry when I tried to find any." Marisa shrugged. "I guess that's why I ran away."

"And?"

"Well, they came to get me, Mima got in the way, and they spotted me. Well, no, Mima gave me away. I told 'em I wasn't coming back.

"She almost killed them."

"You got in the way."

"Yeah." Marisa smiled. "She was pissed. I didn't like my parents, but…" Marisa shook her head. "It's not like they'd ever be a threat to Mima. And I sure as hell didn't want them dead. Or hurt, even. I just wanted to get away from 'em."

Marisa shook her head. "But Mima didn't hurt me for it, either. I was more important, I guess."

Reimu looked at Marisa for a moment, and then gave her a faint smile. "You turned out alright, I guess."

"I turned out _amazing_." Marisa grinned, and Reimu sighed.

"Well, the village doesn't like you, just like she wanted, and you're the craziest magician around, just like you wanted. And you're gonna bother me all the time until one of us dies, _just like I wanted_."

Reimu's glare was much closer to her usual expression, and Marisa couldn't help but hold onto her grin.

"But that's Gensokyo for you," said Reimu, waving a hand dismissively. "Everyone's crazy, and I have to deal with 'em all if it goes wrong."

"Yeah!" Marisa laughed. "It's great."

"Shut up," said Reimu, rolling her eyes. "You shouldn't even be using magic yet."

"Have I ever mentioned how much I love the word 'shouldn't'?"

" _Please, do_."

"Well, I—"

＊ ＊ ＊

It had, come to think of it, been quite a while since Marisa had last found herself trying to unstick such a wide variety of amulets.

Some of them were definitely going to take some time to remove. One of them was caught in her hair.

Marisa couldn't help but laugh. If nothing else, Reimu was alright, and this felt just like old times.

It was still a little strange, seeing Reimu be sentimental or concerned. But… well, she was sentimental, in her own way. She didn't like to lose anything, and she was fond – in her own particular way – of the way Gensokyo was.

Lazy as she acted, she was its guardian. And she was good at it, in the end. Even if she wasn't the best shrine maiden.

Marisa quietly chalked down another of the seals as stuck, and hoped that she wasn't locked out of using magic for too much longer.

Well, it was never exactly the best of ideas to push Reimu.

Marisa took a moment to dust herself off. All amulets aside, it was strangely nice to talk seriously about something personal with Reimu. If nothing else, it was a rare experience.

Well, either way, the day was still young. Marisa had, of course, taken her broomstick with her. Even if she wasn't flying.

Well, okay, maybe she'd fly a little. Walking was just too _slow_.

Marisa grinned. It was time to be needlessly reckless.

＊ ＊ ＊

"It's still scary."

Satori smiled at her sister. She could feel the shared concern, and she could tell that Koishi was quite bothered.

And in spite of all of this, it was hard not to appreciate it. Seeing Koishi willingly face what she was afraid of, seeing her willingly examine it and try her best to make some sense out of it...

Not so long ago, Satori would never have thought it possible.

And, of course, to be included, too, was a kindness that warmed her heart.

Koishi pulled Satori into a tight hug, and Satori returned the gesture. These thoughts were open to her – and between the sisters, this was always accepted.

 _I want her to be here for my whole life. I don't want to say goodbye._ Koishi inhaled, even as she thought. _But I don't want anything she doesn't want for her._

In truth, there wasn't much that Satori could offer. But, as ever, she could be here. _I can't tell you what Marisa wants_ _from her life_.

 _We're still going to talk about it_. Koishi let go. _And it's a long time away._

 _Are you still worried about her now?_

 _No. I think she can be safe for me._

Koishi kicked at the floor, and spoke aloud again. "I don't like thinking about it. I don't know how to stop."

"I don't think anybody does," said Satori. "Thoughts and feelings are hard to control."

"It wouldn't be any fun if they weren't," said Koishi. "But it's scary, too." And then, she smiled. "That's what Marisa's like."

"It is." Satori smiled. It was surprisingly hard to worry about Koishi, in some ways – she was quick to face her fears, and quick to think them through, looking for new angles and solutions.

That much, Marisa was likely somewhat responsible for. For all of the witch's antics, her mind was a strong one.

"I'm just worried," Koishi said. "It'll get better when we talk." _But I'm scared that there's no solution_.

Satori thought for a moment. "Well, you've got a long time," she said. "Have you asked her about living longer?" _Instead of forever._

"No," said Koishi, tilting her head. _I should._ Koishi smiled. _Little things to think about!_ "Thanks!"

And then, she hugged Satori again, still smiling. Koishi's quick, tiny little joys hadn't changed, and for that, Satori was glad.

"Love you, sis." Koishi let go, and drifted into the air.

"Love you too." The return of Koishi's simple, open affection was another thing to be glad for. Satori had missed it – and she had felt that the world had become just a little darker without it.

"I'm gonna stay for a while," said Koishi.

"We'd be glad to have you," said Satori.

Koishi hopped higher into the air. "You seem happy."

 _Your eye was closed for a long time. And I'll always be glad to have you back._

Koishi giggled, and landed. "I'm really lucky!"

"Oh?" Satori raised an eyebrow.

"I've got you as my sis!"

Satori paused, remembering what Marisa had said.

… _Every time she grows and learns, she's so excited to try and use that to show that it's not your fault, that she's doing fine now, thanks to you._

"She's right!" said Koishi. "I don't want you to feel like it's your fault. I'm happier now. And I want to share that!"

It was something that Satori had always admired about her sister.

And, in the end, it hadn't been lost.

"Thank you." Satori's smiled remained, and her eyes met her sister. "And no matter what has happened…"

Koishi tilted her head. Satori could still feel her shared joy.

"…I'm just as lucky." Satori floated into the air to reach Koishi, and ruffled her hair. "Now, I'm sure everybody else would love to say hi, too."

＊ ＊ ＊

"To be honest, I'm simply surprised that you almost went a day without magic."

Patchouli wasn't altogether surprised at Marisa's method of entry. She'd been found almost instantly – by Sakuya – crashed at one side of the mansion, laughing hysterically, and only mildly injured. It was clear, both from that result and what the librarian saw now, that Marisa's control over magic was almost non-existent, at the moment.

Well, to go back to casting normally after what she had done was… unlikely to be an easy process.

Or at least, that was the guess.

"It was just flight! It's simple, right?" Marisa grinned.

"Your flight has _always_ been horrifically imprecise." Patchouli took a moment to note a couple of amulets that seemed to be nestled in Marisa's hair. Clearly, Reimu had been in a particular mood.

"But it's fast!"

"As a direct result of its obvious flaws." Patchouli sighed, producing a notebook. "Now, are you here to take me up on my offer, or did you simply think it would be a good idea to come and attempt chaos and thievery without your greatest external asset?"

Marisa paused, and looked offended. "Why can't it be both?"

Of course. Patchouli tried to ignore the witch's expression.

"I'm surprised, though," said Marisa. "Didn't think you'd be offering me anythin' personal."

Patchouli shrugged. "All personal matters aside, it is something well worth keeping records on. It seemed like a good time to offer, given a rare lack of your… usual tendencies."

"Nobody's got anything on Mima otherwise, huh?"

"If they do, I am neither aware nor in possession of it."

"Well, alright." Marisa leaned back in her chair. "…Where do I start? I don't know anything about her actual life. She practiced magic, and died for it. Heresy, or something like it. That's all I ever knew.

"She said it was three centuries." Marisa paused. "I dunno. This might wind up telling you more about me than her. Mima's the only name I have for her, too."

Patchouli rolled her eyes. "The magic that you learned from her?"

Marisa grinned. "Trade secret!"

Patchouli sighed. "I suppose it was worth a try." She had only had slight hopes that Marisa might cooperate a little.

"As long as you like wasting time! I know I do." And now the witch was being insufferable. Of course.

"Well…" Patchouli sighed. If she wasn't nearly as interested in the sentimental, she wasn't averse to it, in this case. "You might as well start from the beginning, then."

"Well, alright…" Marisa stretched. "When I was a kid, I was interested in magic, nobody else was – y'know, the usual wizard sob story. At thirteen, I got fed up with it and ran away from home instead."

Patchouli started to take notes, and sighed again. Marisa didn't make for the best formal quotations.

"…you should really get one of those outside-world 'pen' things, if you're not gonna animate writing that. Seriously! You can make things at least a bit like them with magic. Except better. But man, inkwells suck!"

" _Thank_ _you_ , but I think I'm quite fine."

Marisa grinned. "Y'know, writing's really simple small-scale manipulation. Even _I_ know that. So how come you're handwriting?"

Patchouli stared. Was Marisa really—

"Wait. Waaait. Do you just _like_ writing these things yourself? Are…" The witch started to laugh, and for some reason, Patchouli began to realize an overwhelming desire to remove Marisa's ability to breathe from the current state of affairs. "Are you being _sentimental_?" The witch started to laugh.

"Even if I am, what does it—"

"This is too much! Patchouli Knowledge, the Great—Unmoving—" Marisa trailed off into fits of laughter.

Patchouli wasn't sure how she ever thought this was going to be a good idea. To think that a temporary hold on magical ability would actually make Marisa less obnoxious was more than naïve.

"Alright, alright, fine, I mean, everybody's gotta enjoy _something,_ right?" Marisa took a breath. "So where was I? I ran away from home, ran into the forest, walked into some weird ruins. They felt kinda creepy. I was really scared, then."

Patchouli, in spite of herself, noticed the slight discomfort in Marisa's expression. And, against her better judgment, she opted not to let it pass.

"And is that embarrassing?" She asked.

"Well, I mean, it's not cool! But I was a kid. Wasn't the cool witch at all, then. Or the Ordinary Magician, or anything else."

"'Ordinary'." Patchouli shook her head. "I couldn't think of a less fitting word."

"That's what so great about it!" Marisa grinned. "I mean, yeah, it's all a little uncomfortable. But I mean, I was just crying about Mima the other day, so you're gonna have to try harder than that to embarrass me. But I mean… hey, at least you sunk to my level!"

Alright. That grin was positively infuriating. Patchouli reminded herself that, as usual, collateral damage in the library would be deeply unfortunate.

" _Go on._ " Patchouli took one breath, and waited.

Marisa laughed, but kept talking. "So… well, I felt even _more_ scared, and realized there was a ghost behind me." She paused. "She asked what I was doing there. Didn't seem too happy. Almost killed me."

Patchouli raised an eyebrow.

"She started casting some spell. But it was really pretty, and I kinda just… started watching it. I got distracted?" Marisa shrugged. "But apparently that did it for her. She dropped the spell, asked me my name… started teaching me."

Marisa stood up and started to pace. She didn't particularly enjoy standing still, from what Patchouli could tell. No wonder her research always seemed so scattered. "So we kinda just started right away. She made me… well, just use magic at all, I guess. Just anything controllable. Little bits of energy, I dunno."

"…On the first night?" It wasn't too surprising to hear, but it _was_ exceptional.

"Yeah. Took me a couple tries to figure out what she meant, but… I kinda just remembered what it looked like when she started casting. What the air felt like… it's been a long time."

"You are aware that—"

"I don't care." Marisa waved a hand. "Maybe that's hard, and I'm insanely talented or something. Who cares? I'm just me."

Patchouli stopped writing. "I take it you've heard similar things before."

"Yeah," said Marisa. "Mima told me all the time. I didn't learn a lot of proper rituals 'til I left her. She said I didn't need to – I was 'above' it or whatever."

And then Marisa went on, clearly a little annoyed. "And then _Alice_ did it too! I mean, sure, the first time, alright. But then the whole Youkai magician thing, too!"

Patchouli paused. "…What about Youkai magicians?"

"She seemed kinda annoyed when I told her I'd give it a pass." Marisa shrugged. "She didn't say much, but Alice doesn't."

"…you're _not_ planning to become one?" Patchouli, to her surprise, was having a bit of trouble parsing this. It was a simple truth, but it entirely contradicted a quiet assumption she had made. For one powerful enough – and even now, Marisa was far above the standard – who practiced magic as their occupation, casting off mortality to become a magician was just the natural path.

Marisa crossed her arms, and it was another odd surprise – that she seemed annoyed more than anything else. Patchouli would have usually just assumed the usual mockery and contrarian displays. "No. I got plenty of time to change my mind, if I want."

"Then what precisely _are_ you planning to do?" It wasn't altogether surprising that Marisa would take the ordinary, rational path and entirely eschew it. Oftentimes, it seemed like that was all she did.

"I dunno. Get old and die, maybe." The witch shrugged.

"And leave your studies unfinished?" Patchouli blinked. The thought of an irritating, whimsical personality like Marisa's – one that was quite human – disappearing in a century's time wasn't hard to imagine. The thought of a magician of that caliber simply dying in that same timeframe was… strange.

"Nothin' lasts forever," said Marisa. "If I do, then what I'm doing won't. I don't wanna get bored."

" _Bored?"_ Alright, _that_ was pushing it. Patchouli was beginning to feel offended on the behalf of magic itself.

"I'm not saying I'd figure everything out and become the ultimate magician. But I mean, a human can be interested in something their whole life. Not gonna work like that for somebody who lives forever." She shrugged. "You haven't been around much over a hundred, yeah?"

"How did—" Patchouli stopped herself, sighing. Of course Marisa would know. "Yes, and?"

"So you might be almost twice as old when I'm gone," said Marisa. "You think this library's going to last you ten times as long as it has already? Twenty? A hundred?" And then, the witch took a deep breath. "Well… you've always been quieter than me. You can probably do it. Either way, I don't have that sorta patience."

Patchouli paused, piecing together a few things. Marisa's irritation was… unusual. Usually, she'd just enjoy flying in the face of everything practical, entirely devoid of any care for the opinions of others.

Both the topic Marisa's unusual reaction added up to a relatively simple guess – and as much as Patchouli hated imprecise knowledge, this seemed like an easy mark. "And you were worried I was going to mourn the loss of your talent?"

Marisa raised a hand, and then said nothing. "…huh. Yeah, I guess."

"How naïve." Patchouli waved a hand. "Many great magicians have been quite insane, and not in such a… functional… way as you. It's not at all unusual for a great contribution to come from a mage that disappears shortly thereafter." Patchouli frowned, although admittedly she was enjoying this a little. "Did you honestly think that you had a monopoly on insanity?"

And then, Marisa laughed. "Alright, alright, fair enough."

"Besides," said Patchouli, "magic has a tendency to be quite personal in some form or another. While it may be a shame that the field will lose however many centuries of progress beyond a human life you may have had… I doubt such progress would happen at all if you were the kind of person to follow a _rational_ path.

"Now, did you want to continue your story? Or was that all you felt like sharing?"

Marisa paused, and grinned. "Hey, you should be on my side."

"'Your side'?" Patchouli raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah!" Marisa chuckled. "You get all your books back when I die!"

Patchouli crossed her arms.

Marisa made a display of mock exasperation. "Okay, fine, fine. So where was I…"

＊ ＊ ＊

Satori paused as she heard a series of loud crashes, followed by a couple yelps.

She quickly headed towards the source, and it didn't take her too long to root it out. Utsuho was standing there, looking panicked over a couple broken vases.

Satori raised an eyebrow, saying nothing. Utsuho raised her hands, looked like she was about to speak… and then looked around, quickly seeming more and more like she was about to cry.

" _Koishi._ That is _not_ a good use of your powers."

And suddenly, Koishi had been there all along, looking at the aftermath of whatever had gone wrong. "Oh." She offered a sheepish grin.

…The downsides to Marisa as an influence on Koishi suddenly seemed an order of magnitude clearer. "Care to explain?"

"It's not Okuu's fault!" Koishi said. "I asked her for a ride! It was really fun. But we lost balance. But I asked!"

Satori looked to Koishi, who looked somewhere between slightly guilty and… well, like somebody who had been unduly influenced by one Marisa Kirisame. Utsuho, on the other hand, seemed to be exploring potential options for sinking further into the underground.

"First of all, give me the _third_ vase back. If Marisa wants to steal things, she can at the _least_ attempt it herself."

Koishi's grin was absolutely Marisa's, this time.

"I can see what you're thinking, thank you very much. If you're going to go about causing trouble, you're going to have to be _much_ more subtle than that. If we're going to have repeat incidents, I might have to reconsider letting Marisa stay with us in the future."

Koishi pouted. Satori crossed her arms. "No buts."

"Awww."

"And Utsuho." Satori turned to face the crow, who shrunk away. "What have I told you about flying in the palace?"

Satori watched Utsuho turn the question over in her own head, fail to produce an exactly remembered answer, and guess anyways. "…if you're not careful, that happens," she said, pointing to the shattered pottery. "And my wings are bigger than I think." Utsuho, unsurprisingly, was not terribly careful by nature.

"Yes. This is not the first time, is it?"

"No…"

"But I asked!" said Koishi. "She wouldn't have been flying if I didn't!"

"And that's why she's only in a little trouble. You, on the other hand…"

Koishi giggled. "But mooooom…"

Satori paused. How did Koishi even _think_ of an archetype like—

"It seemed like something Marisa would say!" Koishi smiled.

Satori took a deep breath, and then sighed. Of her duties, she hadn't thought that making hopeless attempts to straighten out her younger sister was going to be one.

 _You have to take the good with the bad,_ she thought, rubbing her forehead.

"I hope I won't be seeing something like this again," Satori said to Utsuho. It was a little hard to scold her – in her sometimes childlike nature came a tendency to crumble under pressure, and it made Satori feel exceptionally cruel.

Koishi, on the other hand…

" _You_ are coming with me."

"Fiiiiine…"

＊ ＊ ＊

Alice heard knocking at her door, and found herself performing some unusual mental gymnastics. If previous encounters were any indication, Koishi was the only one around who would stop to knock, although sometimes she would bring to Marisa.

However, an intuition born of experience told Alice that this was probably at about the right sample size for Marisa to, for example, start knocking simply for confusion's sake.

Given Marisa, Alice trusted that intuition, although she found herself feeling less mature for it.

And so, an extra ten seconds later, dolls were all carefully prepared in flanking positions as Alice opened the door.

"Heya!"

Marisa raised her hands as nearly a hundred armed dolls surrounded her in an instant, and then frowned. "You figured it out already? Man, you've known me too long..."

Alice sighed. "What do you want?"

Marisa grinned. "I just wanted to ask you about a few things! Koishi's still down at the palace."

Well, that was a little unusual. "You came knocking for _conversation?_ "

"Yep!" As always, Marisa obviously enjoyed the cognitive dissonance she was inflicting.

The battalion of dolls withdrew, formations breaking as they returned to their various resting positions. "Well, come on in, I guess."

Marisa, of course, had entered the moment that the dolls allowed her to. "So! Remember the last time we talked about immortality and all that? The Youkai magician stuff."

Alice frowned. That particular conversation was not one of her favourite memories. "I attempted to be polite, and you almost bit my head off anyway, yes."

"Okay, yeah," said Marisa, shrugging. She still seemed nonchalant. "We were kind of a mess, then."

"I'm not arguing that," said Alice. "But why are you asking again now?"

"Just been thinkin', really."

"Give me that doll back," said Alice. She hadn't seen anything, and Marisa hadn't given anything away.

Marisa produced a doll and passed it back to Alice. "You didn't fill that one yet."

"It's new." Alice sighed. If one paid attention to how much Marisa noticed as she casually stole everything, it wasn't much of a surprise that she was an exceptional magician.

Which, in turn, turned back to the topic at hand. "So what's this about immortality? You haven't changed your mind, I'm guessing."

"Nope! I was talking about it with Patchy. I got kind of annoyed."

In spite of herself, Marisa was being quite serious. "I thought she was gonna get mad at me for staying mortal, 'cause it'd be wasting my talent. But she didn't."

"Oh?" Alice waited. The last time that Marisa had talked about this had been with Alice, and there were… a lot of loose ends. Alice hadn't particularly enjoyed the thought of Marisa's inevitable, mortal death, although she hadn't said much before Marisa nearly snapped.

Marisa had been sensitive to anything to do with talent, then. Mima had been a recent scar, then.

"Well, for one, she said a lot of talented magicians were even crazier than me." Marisa frowned at the word 'crazier'. "And they tended to contribute something amazing and then disappear.

"But she said something smart, too. Said that magic's always personal, and that while it sucks that I'd die like that, I'd probably never be a magician like this if I was 'the kind of person to follow a _rational_ path'."

Alice paused. "Hopefully you're not going to explode this time, but…" She grimaced. "It still feels like a waste, to me."

"Maybe!" Marisa tossed her hakkero into the air. Alice hadn't seen her produce it. "But maybe not."

And then, the hakkero was gone again, snatched from the air and hidden somewhere. "If that wasn't a risk I'd take, I wouldn't be Marisa Kirisame."

Alice took a deep breath, and carefully ignored old reflexes. This wasn't then. "And if I went around talking to enough people that I wouldn't miss one of the few I _do_ keep around, I wouldn't be Alice."

Marisa paused. "Oh. You mean…"

"As much of a surprise as it may be, yes, watching your life pass by and disappear isn't something I'm looking forward to." Alice smiled, although it was a little distant. If anybody else tried to drag Alice out of her house to go solve large, crowded, troublesome incidents, she'd probably be actively avoiding them now. "You probably knew that, though. Even then."

Marisa looked at Alice for a moment. "Huh. So you were being selfish."

"Well, I was surprised, too. Magicians far less dedicated and powerful than you are – than you were, even then – have gone down that path. It didn't even occur to me that you wouldn't."

The witch shrugged. "It didn't occur to Patchy either."

Alice had to admit that it was quite frustrating have her own past self be compared constantly to another. In truth, she just hated being compared to others – it was a great part of why she had quietly decided to live on her own.

But she knew Marisa, too, and she knew that wasn't the intent. It was the subject, and it was what sparked it, nothing more.

Marisa went on, and Alice watched the humor leave her expression. "Nothin' lasts forever. Everyone knows that. And if I go on forever – well, if I'm lucky, an accident gets me sometime sooner rather than later."

Alice's train of thought came to a crashing halt. "If you're _lucky_?"

Marisa stared at her. "Yeah. Let's say it takes me three thousand years before I finally get bored doing all the magic I can. I love it all to death, but it can't last forever – it can last longer than I live, but I'm just an ordinary human."

Ordinary. Right. That was _definitely_ the word for Marisa.

Marisa went on. "So say it takes me that long, right? Then what? Say it takes another thousand before I get bored exploring things, or run out of things to go. So you and I, we're immortal, alive four thousand years later. So you're out doing… whatever we're doing in four thousand years…

"And you find out Marisa Kirisame's gone."

"…Gone?" Alice found herself distinctly unsettled, now. "As in dead?"

"Yeah." Marisa hadn't broken eye contact. "What else? I'm okay with livin' my life and dying whenever I do. When time's up, time's up, and I'll have had a whole lotta fun. If time's never up, then I gotta be my own clock, and that's just not me. And dying of boredom?"

Marisa laughed. "I'd rather die!"

Well, you could always leave it to Marisa to find a joke in the worst of places.

"I wouldn't mind having longer," said the witch. "But it's gotta be longer, not forever. I wanna just keep going 'til I'm done, not run outta things to do. I like the change, I like finding new stuff, I like keeping everything hard to guess… but like I said, nothing lasts forever. Besides, even if you're weird and you actually _want_ to keep me around, you probably wouldn't want me to go like that. I wanna just be done whenever life says I'm done, and I wanna have enough fun that I can look back and feel good about it."

Marisa was silent, as was Alice. It was a lot to take in, although that wasn't so surprising. If you knew Marisa, you knew that she put a lot of thought into everything she'd paid any attention – even if she acted the opposite for her personal amusement.

Her philosophy, as such, was as thoroughly considered as it was simple.

Alice smiled. "Well, that's Marisa. It makes sense, for you." And that, to Alice, was really all there was to it, in spite of everything. "What's got you thinking about it?" she added.

"Well, satori live a lot longer than humans…" Marisa gave a sheepish grin. "And she doesn't like me dying after some decades any more than you!"

"So you're not sure, now." Alice chuckled. "You sounded pretty sure the first time we talked about it."

Marisa grinned. "Having the rest of my life to change my mind is a selling point, y'know."

"And what do you think of just extending your life?" Alice didn't have too much to work with at this point, but Marisa probably knew that. If Alice had to guess, she just wanted somebody else to bounce thoughts off of.

It was rare, but Marisa was uncharacteristically easy to deal with in such cases.

"If I can do it all at once, sure. Not one extension at a time, 'cause then I'm just choosing when I die again. I think I could keep life fun for a few human lives. But… I'd still want to wait. Wouldn't wanna guess wrong, and…" Marisa grimaced. "Well, I don't know to feel about all the other humans, yet."

Reimu was distinctly human, if nothing else. And it was true that when she passed, Gensokyo would doubtless change.

It was a lot to think about, and neither of the two could have enough information to be sure about it.

"But I'll look into it," said Marisa. "Even if it's just trying, it'll help. Koishi's nice like that." She paused. "Well, a lot of people are. She just shows it more, I think." Marisa gave Alice a nod.

And then, she stretched, giving a yawn. "Well, that's enough being serious for today!"

"The second doll, too." Alice narrowed her eyes. "Although that was a good try, without magic."

Marisa rolled her eyes, removed her hat, and produced another one of Alice's dolls from it. "You knew _way_ sooner than that."

"I didn't feel like cutting you off." Alice smirked. "But if you wanted me to throw you out and let you go home, you could have just asked!"

"Yeah, yeah." Marisa chuckled. "I'm going anyways, though. Koishi's probably waiting for me."

"Take care," said Alice. "Mind the spells."

"You wish!"

＊ ＊ ＊

"Welcome home!"

Koishi waved as Marisa opened the door.

Marisa was a little tired. Today was long, and being stuck on the ground was _really_ annoying.

At least Koishi was here, now. "Heya!" Marisa waved back.

"What's a 'long day' mean?" asked Koishi. And then, pausing a moment to read a little further, she answered her own question. "…oh."

"Yeah," said Marisa. _Feeling a little better about the lifespan, though_.

Koishi nodded. "We still have a long time."

"Yeah." Marisa smiled, and pulled Koishi into a hug. "How about you?"

Koishi giggled. "I tried to steal something from sis for you, but she can read my mind now, so I got in trouble."

...Alright, that was great. Marisa broke out laughing. She _was_ having a bad influence on Koishi after all!

"Well, it's no good if you get caught _that_ easily. Good first try, though!" Marisa grinned. "I'll show you how it's done!"

And, just like long before, Marisa found that in one, odd movement, she had switched hats with Koishi.

She liked it a lot more this time, though. The hat was a little large for Koishi, but it was adorable all the same.

Koishi's hat was still a little small, though.

Marisa grinned. "Looks like some things don't change!"

"You can do it without thinking, but I can still see it!" Koishi smiled. "Do you have an extra hat?"

"Yeah! Do you want one?"

Koishi jumped into the air. "Yes!" And then she paused, and added, "they're still trapped."

"One of them only explodes a little."

Koishi giggled. "You forgot how to disarm them."

"I'm _pretty_ sure this one's safe to trip…"

And then, Marisa found herself equal parts amused and horrified as Koishi went for the hat.

A couple small explosions later, Koishi was laughing. She was also stuck to the ceiling, although Marisa knew that was just her.

"That was fun!" Koishi slowly unstuck herself from the ceiling. "Is that why you trap things?"

Marisa grinned. "Well, a good thief doesn't let just anyone steal things back." Marisa pushed her own worry aside with some thought – she wasn't going to tell Koishi that she couldn't do something Marisa did all the time. And if this was scary for her, then it could just as easily be the same for Koishi.

Besides. Most of Marisa's traps were safe. Well, 'safe'. Well, they _usually_ didn't break anything.

And now, Koishi was wearing a witch's hat over her own. Marisa wasn't sure when the other hats had been switched back, but that much was simply amusing. It was Koishi, after all, and the fact one always had to second-guess their memory around her was one of many tiny things about Koishi that Marisa appreciated.

Koishi smiled. "Can I keep this one?"

"Well, _that's_ not proper stealing."

"But will it work?"

Marisa chuckled. "Yeah, yeah it will."

"Thank you!" Koishi was beside Marisa in a retroactive instant, hugging her.

"It won't always be that easy," said Marisa, hugging Koishi back.

Marisa yawned. "Let's hope my magic works better tomorrow," she said. "Walking's just so _slow_."

"Are you going to sleep?" Koishi tilted her head.

"It's a little early, but yeah. I want my spells back!" Marisa crawled into bed, and Koishi was quick to follow.

Two things occurred to Marisa: Koishi was still afraid, and those feelings were, for the most part, not being shared now. There didn't seem to be any fear or upset that didn't belong to Marisa, but…

Well, Koishi seemed smaller. She held onto Marisa more tightly, and she was… quieter. A little less randomly joyful.

"…sorry."

Marisa ran a hand through Koishi's hair. "What for?"

"It's still…" Koishi trailed off. "I don't want to lose you. And I can hold on to those feelings, but you still notice. You don't like fear."

Marisa frowned. "You dummy."

Marisa felt some confusion, and smiled. "You don't have to hide it. Even if I don't like it. Nobody likes everything that happens, and it's what you do with it that matters." She paused, and added, "I guess sharing it is doing something. But I don't mind!"

"Okay." Koishi curled up against Marisa. "It's not scary, now. It's just sad." Small feelings made themselves known again.

"Yeah, I know. I've got a long time to decide, though. I'm sure there's ways to live a bit longer without living forever, too."

"I hope so." Koishi sighed. "It'll get better. I hadn't thought of it before." She hadn't thought to be afraid of it.

"We've still got a long time together, no matter what, alright?"

"Yeah."

Marisa wrapped her arms around Koishi. This wasn't something she could shelter her from, but the act was still its own comfort.

"I love you," murmured Koishi, closing her eyes. Her breathing was still a little uneven, and she was still tense; Marisa could feel it, with Koishi holding her so tightly.

"I love you too," said Marisa. Idly, she began to rub Koishi's back – it was a small gesture of comfort, and nothing more, but… well, Koishi was still a little bit down.

Silence fell between the two, with Marisa feeling the odd rhythm of Koishi's feelings. Her own thoughts, she knew, were a rhythm Koishi found comfort in, and so, as always, she counted the satori's breaths as they slowly began to even.

Finally, Koishi's breathing took a steadier rhythm, and her feelings seemed to settle. She was asleep, now.

Marisa smiled at the sleeping satori, and then closed her eyes, letting her own awareness drift away.


	23. Chapter 23 - Living Steps

Marisa Kirisame grinned as she woke. Her head didn't hurt this time, which meant… well, to be honest, it didn't mean all that much, but it was good to start a day on time and without a splitting headache.

Marisa looked down to the weight on her chest that she had become accustomed to. It was also nice to start a day with Koishi.

"Morning," Koishi murmured, rolling over on Marisa. She still seemed a little sleepy.

"Morning, Koishi." Marisa smiled, and ruffled the satori's hair. "You alright?"

Koishi hugged Marisa. "Yeah. Didn't sleep well…" She yawned, and let go of Marisa in order to stretch.

Marisa, giving into impulse, poked Koishi's sides – partly for her own ends, and partly to see if being sleepy slowed Koishi down any.

Surprisingly, it did. Koishi squeaked, and then fell into a giggling fit. Marisa took the opportunity to continue tickling her, laughing as she did.

"Little more awake now?" Marisa grinned.

Koishi pouted, but kept giggling. "Yeah!"

"Alright! So," Marisa stretched, still trying to get some sense for her own physical state. "Where do ya wanna go?"

Koishi tilted her head, taking a moment to think. Much like anything else the satori did, it was obvious what she was doing, and it was cute. "I wanted to go to the Netherworld again," she said.

"Sounds good to me." Marisa wasn't quite sure how well flying would work out, yet. Somehow, this seemed more exciting than worrying.

"You can improvise!" Koishi hopped into the air.

Marisa grinned. "You got it!"

＊ ＊ ＊

Flying the way Marisa did, as it turned out, was still a little difficult.

Not difficult enough to keep her out of the air, let alone to keep her from trying, of course. But still difficult.

Koishi was helping her along, now. It wasn't strictly necessary, but the satori was still more than a little worried, and Marisa was willing to accept that.

Either way, magic felt a lot better now than it had before, and given what had lead to the current situation, Marisa could live with waiting a for a couple more days.

"So why'd— _holdon_ —why'd you want to see the Netherworld again?" Marisa asked. Turbulence made it a little difficult to hold a proper conversation, but that wasn't going to stop her from trying.

"I wanted to see Yuyuko again," said Koishi. "I want to learn more about her. And make sure she's okay!"

Marisa chuckled. It was a strange prospect, and Yuyuko was always… well, Yuyuko, but Koishi seemed excited.

"Make sure she's okay?"

Koishi nodded. "There's a lot of sad things in her past, and it's hard to see how she feels."

"Even for you, huh?" Well, _that_ was interesting. Marisa leaned to one side as she began to fly in less controlled directions.

"Yeah," said Koishi. "Sometimes I can't see anything. I don't know why."

Given Yuyuko, it was hard to really trust any conclusion one could reach. Perhaps she sometimes lacked emotion altogether – or perhaps, in her ephemeral genius, she had simply found a way to hide from even Koishi's sight. Or perhaps the truth was entirely outside of the obvious options – attempting to glean any information from Yuyuko was an exercise in futility.

Not that Marisa didn't like to try from time to time. For her, 'exercise in futility' was just another way of saying hobby.

"Well," Marisa said, giving a quick glance around to check her orientation. " _Was_ she okay?"

"She thought so. She was sad, but it was far away. It wasn't hers."

Koishi was, by Marisa's estimate, more curious than worried, although her concern was by no means neglected. Koishi was, as she always was, kind.

Marisa was both curious and excited, too. Koishi, with her unique ability, could see people almost entirely as they were – their thoughts and feelings, their buried memories, and, of course, the same, external view that everyone else could see. It brought out a lot of things that could take years to figure out otherwise – or might never be seen at all.

For many, this might be considered uncomfortable or altogether too fast to get to know someone on such a personal level. Marisa, on the other hand, derived her own, insane brand of comfort from discomfort and unreasonable velocity.

Velocity. Right. Marisa held her thoughts from a moment as she almost fell off her broom. She could fly without it, of course, but that was very little that would be worth getting _caught_ flying without it for.

Koishi giggled.

"One counts as very little!" said Marisa, smiling. "Don't hug me, we'll fall really far this time," she added, almost without thought.

"Oh." Koishi giggled again. "But it'd be fun!"

"I thought you were worried about me!"

"Well, it's fine if I do it, right?"

Marisa broke out laughing. Koishi really _was_ taking after her. Satori'd be _real_ happy about that one.

"I know! You should've seen her when I tried to steal something for you. Even if it didn't work." Koishi shrugged, and then grinned.

"I toldja, I'll show you how to—" Marisa paused as she went through a couple of unintended rotations. "Steal things!"

"But we're even so far…"

"And that's the best record for stealing from you in all of Gensokyo!" Marisa grinned. And then added, "and you can't take my broom."

Koishi seemed to fall out of the air for a moment as she laughed. "You always know!"

"Thief's sense. Trade secret!"

Koishi giggled, and Marisa gave her a thumbs up. "Nice try, though! Well. Pre-try. It's thought that counts!"

Being that it was Koishi, Marisa quickly added, "sometimes." Given the satori, it very often wasn't the thought that counted – just the choice.

Well, it was a planned choice anyways.

"It's close enough!" Said Koishi, a second before Marisa did.

"Yeah!"

Marisa caught herself as she took another sudden swerve. It was faster this time.

She could get used to this.

She grinned. Constantly out of control sounded like her style, anyways.

"Don't hit the door," said Koishi, now in a pose that looked like it belonged in the air.

Marisa swerved up. It was rough, but she could at the very least avoid the gates of the Netherworld. _That_ wasn't hard.

"Next stop, the Netherworld!"

＊ ＊ ＊

"They're _guests_ now, Youmu."

Youmu Konpaku had gone from looking remotely satisfied to somewhere between embarrassed and frustrated in just a moment.

The half-ghost took a deep breath. "…Yes, Lady Yuyuko."

"C'mon, it was a good shot," said Marisa, who was still lying on the ground where she had crashed. "I was a little slow, and she got it! It's good instinct!"

Koishi sensed little notes of confusion from Youmu as Marisa spoke in a joking defense of her actions – namely, that she had brought Marisa down the moment she approached.

In truth, although they hadn't talked much, Koishi rather liked the half-ghost. Her thoughts and feelings were simple, she was focused, and she seemed utterly honest and forthright. All the emotions that came from her were easy to understand, and unclouded by further cascades of memory or thought.

"Still!" Yuyuko smiled. Her deeper thoughts and feelings were once again clouded to Koishi, but her quiet amusement was clear. "When you cut down our guests, _I_ look unbecoming as a host!"

Youmu sighed.

"It just won't do."

 _I can't win,_ came the half-ghost's whining thought.

"You have to wait until the spellcards are declared before you start shooting if you want to actually _win,_ right?" Koishi tilted her head. Most of what she knew about this was simple recall of what she'd seen in Marisa.

"…what?" Youmu raised an eyebrow, and Yuyuko held her smile.

"You thought you couldn't win!" Koishi smiled.

 _...She's reading—_

"Your mind!" Koishi pointed to her third eye. "Satori can do that. I like you, though!"

Yuyuko chuckled.

 _Thanks, Lady Yuyuko_ , thought Youmu, shooting what was _almost_ a dirty look at her mistress.

Still, the ever-downtrodden servant didn't seem to care much about Koishi's third eye. She was simple, and she was focused, and she knew that – there wasn't really anything to fear about a mind-reader, except in combat.

"Don't be shy!" said Yuyuko. "You are quite welcome here. Now," Yuyuko produced a fan, and again it was impossible to tell where she got it. "I'm afraid the Netherworld, scenic as it may be, does not have a great amount to offer you."

She opened her fan, and Koishi felt the echo of a strange feeling from her. "Is there anything you wished to see?"

Koishi smiled. "You!"

＊ ＊ ＊

It was strange, Marisa thought, just what Koishi could unearth in her simple, strange ways. While it was obvious that the ability to see both feeling and thought would make many things happen faster… sometimes, the result was simply unique.

Yuyuko Saigyouji, ancient and indecipherable, seemed just a little more like a _person_ as she looked at Koishi. Her smile, disarming and confusing, was just a little warmer, and her polite, engaged expressions were a little more lively. It was as if Koishi's sight had brought the strange ghost just a little closer to the world.

Even to Marisa, who was unafraid and open, Koishi's strange, simple sight had changed many, many things.

She loved it. It was exciting to always march into the future – but it was also exciting to find out that so many pieces of the past and present had been overlooked, and might be yet another part of the future, in turn.

It was enough – for now – to keep Marisa quiet.

Well, that and the looming threat of Yuyuko Saigyouji.  
ᅟ

Koishi Komeiji could see… flickers. She could hear echoes, and she could feel ripples in the air, all from Yuyuko.

She was strange, to Koishi. Her thoughts were unreadable – a strange mask of idle, pleasant thoughts on top of far too many subtle pathways for the satori to read. Her feelings, however…

They were silent. And when they were not, they were distant, hard to read, even as the simple sensations that feelings were.

For some reason, Koishi couldn't help but find it pretty.

"I can see more now," said Koishi. "You're still quiet, but…"

Yuyuko smiled, and again, Koishi felt tiny reflections of some distant feeling. Happy and sad. A little surprised, and yet knowing. "I am," said the ghost.

"Why?" Koishi tilted her head.

"How faint must your reflection be before you no longer recognize it?" The ghost held her smile. "The surface of a lake still looks back upon those who would see, even if the sun or moon are brighter."

Koishi didn't know what Yuyuko meant. She was like that, sometimes.

Koishi _felt_ like she knew. Yuyuko's smile was really cool.

"Ah, but where are my manners?" The ghost's expression once again became a complete mask. "You are my guests! I mustn't keep you waiting so. Youmu!"

"Yes, Lady Yuyuko..."

＊ ＊ ＊

Koishi could feel Youmu's distaste at the thought of serving tea to Marisa Kirisame – and as a servant of the host, no less! Youmu Konpaku was not, on the whole, a very prideful person. But this, as her thoughts said, was just too much.

Koishi couldn't help but laugh a little. Marisa was driving somebody insane without even trying! It was… well, it was Marisa.

And yet… the half-ghost was also fascinated. As simple as she was, years of service meant that she had noticed the little changes in her mistress – even if she couldn't identify them. She wasn't sure _what_ Koishi's presence changed, but she knew that it had indeed changed something.

It was strange – Koishi couldn't tell the difference. People treated her as they did – and in the Gensokyo of today, that was kindly.

Koishi smiled, and began to talk again.

"It was my idea to come here again," she said, smiling. "It wasn't about the tree!"

Yuyuko smiled.

"I just wanted to see you."

"You came just to see me?" Yuyuko chuckled. "You're too kind."

"I wanted to make sure you were okay." Koishi could be herself, here. "Because I didn't know if you were. Your feelings are strange. They're… far away, so I don't know them very well."

She spoke as she thought, as she felt – and she did so without hesitation.

And again, there was a little echo of warmth. Warmth amidst… fascination. Marisa at what Koishi was setting, and Youmu at what her master was showing.

"It is true," said the ghost, her smile fading. "It has been difficult, in its own ways. To wake beside the Saigyou Ayakashi with nothing but oneself…"

Youmu took a step forward. Koishi could tell that it was not a conscious act.

"It is a lonely existence. But," Yuyuko raised a hand. "It is different, now."

"But you still feel the same, sometimes."

What did that mean? Koishi wasn't sure what she'd said.

It felt right.

"Do you not?" Yuyuko felt… tired. Just a little. "The Saigyou Ayakashi rests within such roots."

Everyone did. Nobody left their past behind – many learned to live with the way it existed within them. Sometimes, they needed help. Koishi had needed a lot of help. _Marisa_ had needed help. It wasn't something to be ashamed of.

"Can you live with it?" Koishi had gotten close to Yuyuko, although she didn't know when.

Yuyuko tilted her head – almost a mirror of Koishi's motion. "I'm afraid I can't _live_ with very much, nowadays." And, again, she smiled. "I am at peace with it, however, yes."

And then, Koishi felt echoes of… pain. Loneliness. Upset and injustice.

The satori thought for a moment… and spoke without an answer. "What are you?"

Yuyuko met Koishi's gaze. "A life. A death. An echo. An unknown." She smiled. "The feelings of Saigyou's daughter are not mine, in the end. But I did feel them."

And then, light came to life. Strange lines became shapes, drawing life into a cloud of butterflies of all colors and sizes.

Koishi watched them as they hovered and danced. They were beautiful.

"We have come this far," said Yuyuko, raising a hand as a butterfly darted past her, giving yet another a place to land. "What do you wish to know, Koishi Komeiji?"

"I'm…" She hesitated.

But Yuyuko did not. This echo was unafraid. It was determined, and it was accepting.

"I have already felt more than I have in a long time," said the ghost. The butterfly on her hand fluttered. "And it is lively. It is wonderful."

And again, that smile. Distant and tired, but not a mask. "You needn't hesitate."

But Koishi had no words, now. Those echoes _were_ the feelings of Yuyuko Saigyouji. Was… that really okay?

"…those are your feelings."

Yuyuko nodded. "It is no weakness. My tie to this world is strange." And then, a smile like a mask – almost. It was different, somehow. "I would have it no other way."

"…But they're her feelings, too."  
ᅟ

Yuyuko Saigyouji closed her eyes, and remembered, once again.

It was hard to feel, when the world was so faint. And that was fine – it was a strange existence that she had. The detachment, the distance – when everything was painted in those colors, all was normal. There was no jealousy for those who felt more – or those who felt less.

She _was_ an echo. And she was many other things. But an echo feels in echoes.

Koishi Komeiji had cast echoes of her own. Strange girl that she was, she had moved the ghost.

And so, Yuyuko remembered. The daughter of Saigyou – that which had birthed this strange shade of existence, that which she could thank for everything, despite what she had done.

The courage, the guilt, the quiet fear, and the resolve in a decision to die. The echoes, the strange joy, the safety, and the comfort in those last fading moments. The great distance that the butterflies had forged, and the utter solitude endured for years because of it.

Each of these had their place in Yuyuko Saigyouji. And she understood them in many ways that the daughter of Saigyou, resting in an eternal, binding grave, would not.

To relive the past, to understand it… had been hard. It had been so difficult amidst an existence of distance, where all difficulty is merely in boredom and a lack of connection. It had hurt, where nothing else had even reached her.

She was not alone, now.

She remembered the daughter of Saigyou. She remembered the strange way that Yukari looked at her, and the strange way that she came to see Yukari, too. An existence almost the opposite of her own.

Almost.

Those opposites could be understood. Everything could be seen in traces and echoes, and if one had seen them long enough – as Yuyuko had for countless years – then it became possible to predict their path, to take a single hint and derive truth from it.

It was amusing, to her.

The ghosts of the past were here, now, that Koishi might see them. The echoes were stronger – as if the strange satori had given them back… and renewed them.

She wanted Yuyuko to feel, and to feel well.

Yuyuko Saigyouji opened her eyes, and a single tear rolled down her cheek. And then, she laughed, although it was only her own, quiet chuckle.

"Thank you."

Koishi Komeiji was strange to watch. Her expressions sometimes seemed to reflect more emotions than just her own. To Yuyuko's distant life, it made the satori hard to read, at times.

She was without regret, in her present life. The story of Saigyou's daughter was before her time, beyond her control. The feelings that she felt as echoes of life, and the strange distance the world sometimes took – it was unique, but it was her own view, and she harbored no resentment for it.

If the world were not so hard to see, it would not be so clear to her, after all.

"I can't show you any more," said Koishi mournfully.

"It is enough," said Yuyuko. "And it was a beautiful moment."

Marisa watched Koishi in silent fascination, and Youmu watched Yuyuko with a new tension.

"That it was."

And, where before there had been only background, Yukari Yakumo now stood.  
ᅟ

Koishi looked to the newcomer, to the person who had appeared from a strange gap. She had seen in memories how Yukari usually made her entries, but this was a different gap – it was a gap in what people had paid attention to.

Yuyuko had known it would happen. Marisa was far too used to her own gaps in perception to be surprised. Youmu had served Yukari's closest friend for many years.

And still, she was here in an instant.

The Youkai of all boundaries, Yukari Yakumo. Koishi had seen her in memories and stories that others had told – to see her in person was something else entirely.

"And we have you to thank, Koishi Komeiji."

Yukari smiled. Everything about her stance – her faint smile, the relaxed posture, the single raised hand as she spoke, the parasol resting on her shoulder, the wisps of a closing gap behind her – none of it was measured, and all of it _felt_ measured.

Koishi stared. Yukari Yakumo was overwhelming.

Unease from the monochrome witch – from Marisa.

"It's… okay," said Koishi. "She's not going to hurt me."

Yukari's smile deepened. "I had thought I might find you here," she said, pouring herself some tea. That she had never retrieved the teapot – or the cup that she now poured herself – was no trick of perception.

Beneath layers of white noise and thoughts faster than one could even take words from, Yukari seemed to think normally. It could be read, although it seemed… simple. Almost incomplete.

It did not explain the endless knowledge that Koishi could feel from Yukari Yakumo.

It was not an easy task to separate conversation from perception, now, but Koishi tried nonetheless. "You… were looking for me?"

Yukari waved a hand. "Now seemed like a reasonable time." Still, that smile was there. Koishi didn't know what it _meant._

"So what do you want from her, then?" Marisa spoke up. She was a little impatient, a little uneasy. Yukari was a slight annoyance, to her, but… well, she could no doubt feel Koishi's confusion.

"I wished to meet the one who saw the Saigyou Ayakashi as it was." Her smile faded, and she raised one hand, allowing a butterfly to land on it as Yuyuko had.

The butterflies had begun to fade. They were fewer in number now, and they grew more faint.

"The one who had seen its dream, when its sleep was surely dreamless."

And, in an instant, the butterflies faded. _The one who had seen Yuyuko Saigyouji alongside the poet's daughter without a thought of similarity_.

Yukari's mind seemed opposite Yuyuko's. Koishi wasn't sure why.

She was not hesitant to ask. "Your thoughts… your…" Was it just the thoughts? Was Yukari speaking to her, slowing some thoughts to a readable, human pace while others simply blurred past? "…they're the opposite of Yuyuko."

Yukari smiled. "It is a simple way to say it." Koishi could see the Saigyou Ayakashi in her thoughts. "But it is true enough."

Koishi paused. "Why are some of your thoughts so much slower? I can't see most of them, but…"

Yukari raised an eyebrow. Yuyuko smiled, and again, Koishi felt an odd echo from the ghost, amidst the strange portrait of pictures and experiences that she saw in Yukari Yakumo. "They are not."

Koishi stopped to think. Yukari could be lying, but… it didn't feel like she was. If those weren't her thoughts…

Koishi's eyes widened. "They're… pictures. They're stories and experience, and… they're…" She took one step forward. "They're your feelings."

And then, Yukari Yakumo laughed, and it was not so quiet as Yuyuko's laughter had been. "Quite astute, aren't you?"

It was overwhelming, to see it for what it was. Feelings painted memories, colored sensations and made themselves known for what they were.

What did one have to do to create those very memories from emotion alone?

What had Yukari Yakumo been through? _How many times_ had she been through it?

Koishi stared. And she remembered what Marisa had said, thinking of immortality. _Nothing lasts forever._

"Is it such a strange sight for you, Koishi Komeiji?" Yukari's smile was thin. She was as fascinated as Koishi was.

Koishi had met people who were immortal, and people who had lived a long time. None of them were like Yukari. She felt like she had _already_ lived forever.

"…I'm sorry," said Koishi. She wanted to cry, now.

Yukari's smile deepened a little. It was a sad smile. "You are sorry?"

"That you've had so long. Marisa doesn't want to live forever. And you look like you already have." Koishi took a step forward. Much like Yuyuko before, she wanted to hug the strange youkai, for whatever little it was worth. "You…" Koishi closed her eyes. "You feel tired."

"Not as I have been, Koishi Komeiji."

Koishi opened her eyes at the sensation of a hand ruffling her hair.

It was Yukari, and it was altogether through her hat. Koishi didn't mind. It felt okay.

"I am not what I have been," said Yukari, her expression distant, unreadable. Even Koishi could only see pieces of it within complete memories of feeling. "And perhaps one day, you will understand."

 _Perhaps one day I shall allow you, Koishi Komeiji._

"But for now, be at ease. You are kind, and I am well; we need nothing more." And, at last, her smile seemed natural. "Such sentiment has many purposes yet."

And then, there was silence. Koishi wasn't sure what to think, but twice she had been reassured that things were alright. That nothing that felt tiring or wrong needed her efforts now, that their worlds could go on as they were.

She trusted Yuyuko, and she trusted Yukari, here. People lied in the past, but in the present Gensokyo, it seemed that nobody would lie to her.

"Marisa Kirisame." Yukari's expression was a mask, now. Her feelings showed old memories, once again. It was strange, the way that nothing recent was ever remembered in such a way.

But beneath it, there were other feelings. Memories gave off tones that reflected what emotions meant to others.

And Yukari Yakumo, in her own, strange way, was excited and fascinated.

"Eh? Whaddya want?" Marisa, too, was curious. Mostly about Koishi, but also at the fact Yukari had bothered to address her in such a situation.

"When you are the first to die," said Yukari, "see to it that she does not shatter – and that she does not follow you."

Marisa frowned. Koishi felt… frustration. Yukari had, without care or pause, spoken harshly to a vulnerability of hers. "You think that's up to me, huh?"

"You play an important role to her, although the choice is indeed hers."

"And what? You're gonna teach me how to play out my life?" Marisa was suspicious in ways Koishi was not. Much of Yukari was impossible to understand, to her.

"It would be quite a world in which I could, Marisa Kirisame." Yukari waved a hand. "The path you are on now is sufficient."

"…So you need somethin' from her that nobody else can give. Is that it?" And then Marisa grinned. It wasn't chaotic in her usual way.

Koishi didn't like it. She felt…

It was not quite frustration.

Marisa went on. "She's the only one that understood you, isn't she?"

Whatever emotion Yukari had shown, it was gone now. "Does it frustrate you?"

" _Stop._ "

Ah. It was that again. It was anger.

It was strange, really. Koishi had always been protected, and Marisa had always felt stronger. But she hated this – she hated watching mockery with edge, hated watching the witch hold back her frustrations, hold back being upset or angry herself.

Yukari paused. Koishi went on.

"I don't care if I understand you," she said. And it scared her, that she had something she might not even mean simply to speak more harshly. Somehow, it escaped her nonetheless. "But you need to _stop_. If her life's so short to you, then _leave it_ _alone!"_

Marisa's frustration was gone in an instant, her mind and feelings colored instead by surprise and concern. Yukari's thoughts did not change. Her feelings, for a moment, reflected the present.

The present was not an image, to her. It was not the complete picture that her feelings seemed to paint before.

It stung. And it felt… joy? The youkai's emotions were just that, now, but they were still hard to understand.

"…a kind one, indeed." Yukari closed her eyes. "Very well. I am sorry to have imposed upon you, then."

It was a strange apology. It was not without feeling.

It felt like that single statement was an apology for years of injury.

"Youmu," said Yuyuko, at last. "I'm getting tired. We should wrap up soon."

"Y…yes, Lady Yuyuko." Youmu was as confused as… well, actually, she was _more_ confused than anyone else.

"Koishi."

It was Marisa. She didn't say anything.

"It's alright." And now, Marisa was speaking to her, and thinking of her. There was a warmth, a softness that accompanied that attention.

"She was…" Koishi shook her head, and looked back to Yukari.

And Yukari smiled, again. "Again, I am sorry. It was not my plan to interfere."

 _But it was a single choice_.

Feelings seemed to fade, and thoughts sped up. Once again, Yukari Yakumo became an enigma. "You are lucky to have her, Marisa." The youkai turned away, and a gap made itself known where emptiness was transparent before. "And you have done well in leading her."

And then she was gone.

Marisa was confused and concerned. Koishi was unsure. There were too many feelings.

"She has been through much," said Yuyuko. The way she said it, 'much' sounded a lot like 'everything'. "But she thought well of you. Both of you, even." She smiled.

It was strange, to see Yuyuko smile so softly, to see her express herself without that strange mask of knowledge and humor.

And even so, it felt right. It wasn't the way that Yuyuko would usually act – or even feel – but to Koishi, who could see in thoughts and feelings, who could see the little parts of a person that they hadn't thought of themselves… it felt like it made sense.

"…Are you sure you're okay?"

In the end, Koishi was still worried. The way the ghost worked, in her own mind – it was so different from anyone that Koishi had ever seen. It was hard to judge, hard to tell if it was a burden or a curse.

"I am quite sure, Koishi Komeiji." Yuyuko's smile had not faded. "I know I am strange to you, and it would indeed be difficult to lose what you have.

"But I have never been another. What was lost to reach this point was never mine."

The ghost reached out… and gave Koishi a pat on the head. Koishi didn't mind.

This was okay. Koishi could accept this. Yuyuko was okay.

"And how have you been?" asked Yuyuko, turning to Marisa. "I know that your better half has been stealing the spotlight."

"My what?" Marisa's thoughts ran a little quickly for Koishi. She hid a tiny bit of embarrassment. "Haven't heard _that_ one before."

Koishi, however, knew Marisa well enough by now. Little pieces of thought, even if only readable in parts, could be figured out. "Better half" implied marriage.

Oh.

Koishi laughed. Marisa grinned, although she was a little bit off-beat. She was distracted – curious about what had happened, about what Koishi had seen.

Even if Yukari or Yuyuko might be more complicated than Marisa – or Koishi – would ever understand, Marisa was always one to take every available piece of information. If she couldn't understand it all, it was still better to make sense of the pieces, to figure out everything that _was_ within her reach.

"Well, it's fine either way." Marisa adjusted her hat. "I'm teaching her to make trouble anyways. And I can always use a distraction!"

"May I ask you another question?"

Koishi could feel Marisa hesitate. _The hell does_ that _mean coming from her?_

"…Sure." Marisa raised an eyebrow. _Guess I'll find out._

"What was it that drew the two of you together?" Asked the ghost.

"Huh?" _What?_

Marisa paused, and Yuyuko waited. After some hesitation, Marisa went on, resigning herself to ignorance of the ghost's motives. "A lotta things."

Yuyuko smiled. And waited.

Marisa took the invitation, and… spoke honestly, in spite of herself.

"From my end? She was new. Not as in a new person, but… everything she did was something I'd never seen before. And if I'd seen it before, she'd mix up what I already knew.

"She was so excited, too. It was like she just shared my feelings if I was excited about something. Like if I was exploring, she wanted to see it all too."

Yuyuko chuckled. "Was that eye of hers open when you met her?"

"It wasn't." Marisa looked to Koishi. She was a little concerned.

"It's okay!" Koishi drifted into the air, smiling. She was aware of it, now, but it was still a small, comfortable motion. "She might know already. But I trust her anyway!"

Marisa paused for just a moment, and then grinned. "Alright, good enough for me." And then, she turned back to the ghost. "She decided to open it after we'd hung out a bit. It was pretty hard. She'd been hurt a lot, before. It all came back when she opened her eye.

"But she stuck to it. And I wasn't gonna leave her. And now…" Marisa's grin shrunk a little, became an odd, affectionate expression. Marisa never wore that expression around others – she was just following Koishi's lead now.

It made her smile, too.

"Well, she's done a lot for me too. And she's still as strange and excited as ever! So it makes me want to go exploring the future with her – 'cause she's excited and she's looking for new things everywhere, and she _finds_ them, too!" Marisa grinned again. "Am I outta my element when something like this happens? Completely! But I've known you two for a while now, and has anything like that happened before? Not at all!

"It's all headfirst into the unknown, and that's how I live!" And then, Marisa paused. "Are you asking mefor _both_ sides of the story?"

"If you don't mind, of course!" Yuyuko's smile was once again a mask.

Koishi could feel a strange little bit of feedback as Marisa thought about her. She was… thinking of what Koishi might see. _She wants to know how I see you, huh?_

Koishi giggled. "Tell her!"

Marisa went on. "So you wanna know what I think drew her to me, right? Well," Marisa held her grin. "I'm irresistible in the first place, and I'm a thief. So of course I can steal hearts!"

Koishi elbowed her.

"What?" Marisa shot Koishi a joking glare.

"You're joking." Koishi crossed her arms, although it was all in good humor.

Marisa sighed. _I'm way too soft. "_ Fine, fine…" Marisa shrugged. "If I had to guess – well, alright, I can kinda feel her. But if I had to make a _well-informed_ guess, I'd say… a lotta things, again.

"I'm safe. I mean, I'm dangerous! But I'm not going to judge her or hate her. I don't care if she reads me like a book, and I don't care if she asks me about something I'm thinking or feeling. I like going headfirst into the future, I get pumped up about a lot of things, and she gets excited with me!"

Koishi read off Marisa's thoughts. "When I opened my eye again, she went around telling her friends about me so they'd be ready to meet me. So they wouldn't get mad at me or be too surprised or anything! It was really nice!"

" _Hey!"_ Marisa turned at Koishi.

"What?" Koishi tilted her head. "She already knows!"

Yuyuko chuckled.

"Of _course_ she does."

"It was more of… 'a well-informed guess', I admit."

Marisa was getting less and less comfortable with Yuyuko's quiet opacity by the moment. Koishi was trying very hard not to laugh. It was hard.

"Well, either way." Marisa shrugged. Whether or not this was her usual self, she refused to be afraid of what she was showing. "I did. It was really hard for her, when she first opened it. I could feel it. It still is, sometimes, but she's gotten really good at handling it."

It was a little thing, but it made Koishi happy to hear Marisa say that to someone else.

"But since we're being all serious, I guess…" Marisa smiled. "Really, at this point, it's just that the future with each other seems really exciting! If things don't work out, if things change, well, that happens. But right now?"

Marisa wasn't hard for Koishi to read, now. Sometimes her thoughts moved a little too quickly to read well, but her feelings were clear, and when she wasn't too focused on something, her thoughts made sense.

And so, it wasn't too hard to read simple love and affection, and Koishi pulled the witch into a hug before she went on.

Marisa hugged her back. Her smile wasn't her usual insane grin, still. "Right now, we'd like to go into the future together. Right?"

"Yeah!" And then, Koishi looked to Yuyuko.

"Why'd you ask?" _If she even wants to say._

Yuyuko's smile faded, although her expression wasn't grim. "Because you are far from insignificant."

"I dunno, I'm pretty human." Marisa shrugged. _Well, whatever you—_

"Koishi Komeiji, in an instant, has seen and understood me in a way that no others have. Yukari knows, of course, but she has not been in the habit of perfect vision of her knowledge for quite a long time."

… _She's answering honestly, too, huh?_ Marisa waited, still. She was, in spite of herself, intrigued. Koishi let go of Marisa, drifting into the air. The motion slightly conscious, this time.

"She has done the same for Yukari, whose past is more difficult than any other. But that she can do this – her strange sight, these abilities, the will to do so…"

And then, once again, Yuyuko's mask faded. Her smile was genuine. "Do you think that without this ordinary, black and white, human magician, she would stand before us now, seeing all that we are?

"Your drive to discover, to understand, and the acceptance with which you follow it – it is rare. Many will live millennia without ever discovering what you have."

That gave Marisa pause. She had heard the same from Mima, Koishi knew. It was still painful, still ever so slightly upsetting.

"Ah, my apologies. I'm sure you've been told as much before."

It wasn't enough to slow Marisa down. "And?"

"All I meant to say is that if you should choose to live a mortal life, then you will doubtless your mark on history amidst immortals and millennia." And then, her smile seemed to brighten a little. "…and that if you should choose to live beyond such a limit, then I am sure that you will burn brightly for much longer than you might fear.

"In either case, whether you are exceptional or merely human… the two of you fit well."

Yuyuko smiled. For a moment, silence reigned. What was that feeling?

Comfort. Yuyuko, somehow, felt some measure of comfort, here.

Koishi was torn. She was happy. She wanted to do more, to change more about this strange ghost. Was it really okay?

To Yuyuko, it was. She was a very different life, and it was hard to understand.

And that much… was enough. She trusted the strange ghost, believed in the difference. It was not a life Koishi could live, but it was one Yuyuko seemed comfortable with.

That was enough.

"If you're trying to make me let my guard down, you don't need to," said Marisa. She grinned, but it wasn't the expression of insanity she so often wore. Here, it was simply comfortable. "I dropped it when I started giving you that much info."

"It was sincere," said Yuyuko.

"Thanks, then." Marisa held that quiet, knowing grin. "I dunno about myself, but you already feel kind of important to Koishi, so…" She shrugged. "I can play along."

Yuyuko nodded. "Youmu!"

"Yes?" The half-ghost snapped to attention. She had been focused – and she was, still. She was frustrated.

There was so much about her master here that she had seen, and she did not understand it.

"They'll need to head home soon, I think. Shall we see them off?"

"Yes, Lady Yuyuko." In her frustration, Youmu seemed more composed than usual. Little mantras of focus, of swordsmanship and inner strength echoed in her thoughts, forced from memory to conscious thought. She didn't understand what had happened, but she had learned discipline, and in the face of such frustration, she used it.

"I think you'll get it," said Koishi, looking at Youmu.

Youmu gave her a blank stare. Confusion was obvious in everything – her feelings, her thoughts, and her expression.

"I think you'll get what happened. Maybe not yet, but you will."

Youmu looked to her master first, and found no hints. And then, back to Koishi. "What do you mean?"

"You don't get what happened. And she's very important to you, so it's frustrating. Right?" Koishi tilted her head.

Youmu began to fidget as she gave a nod. The small spirit that always trailed her began to drift in small circles.

"I think you'll get it. I think she'll help you get it eventually, too. Right?" Koishi looked to Yuyuko. "Your gardener's supposed to know, right?"

Yuyuko chuckled. "As one seed begets another."

Youmu sighed. Yuyuko's smile was normal, for her.

"I suppose I must teach you some eloquence, as well."

Uncertainty had replaced frustration, now. But that was alright. Uncertainty lead to many, many things. Koishi had been uncertain, before, and she was happy, now.

Sometimes, she felt like sharing that forward path with everybody she could.

"Now!" Yuyuko opened a fan that hadn't been there a moment ago. "Let us see our guests off properly!"

＊ ＊ ＊

Marisa fell backwards into her bed. The flight home had been rough, and she hadn't said much – everything was a little too far beyond her immediate understanding to speak through turbulence and noise.

She was still tired, annoying as it was – there was still some recovery to do.

"You've got questions," said Koishi. And then, "are you okay?"

Marisa was a little frustrated, but she always felt that way when there was so much to figure out. "Yeah, I'm fine," said Marisa. "I get impatient when there's a lot of stuff I don't know."

"Okay." Koishi landed softly on top of the witch. "Ask away! You've got too many thoughts to see," she added.

Koishi seemed happy. That much was comforting. "Well… let's start with Yuyuko. What happened?"

"I wanted to see her," said Koishi. "She felt far away, the last time we met. So I wanted to make sure she was okay."

Marisa wrapped her arms around the satori, who curled up as she did. "What did you see?"

"I saw how she felt. I wasn't sure if she could just hide from me at first, but…" Koishi sighed, and Marisa could feel little bits of sorrow. "That's just how she is. She doesn't feel much."

That was an interesting thought. People spent a lot of time in the moment – a lot of time too busy or distracted to really pay any attention to what they were feeling. And unlike thoughts or reflexes, feelings weren't necessary to act or function. At least, not in the moment.

This, in turn, meant it was hard to imagine what Koishi described, simply because it was hard to fully know the opposite. A normal, feeling person was not consciously emotional and aware at all times, so it was hard to contrast with the opposite state.

Koishi snuggled against Marisa. "You're thinking fast again. It sounds nice."

 _She's tired_ , thought Marisa. Then again, Marisa was tired, too.

Still, she had a few too many questions, and Koishi was still willing to answer.

"And you did something to her?" asked the witch. It wasn't the best phrasing, but that quite literally meant nothing, with Koishi.

"Her feelings are like… echoes. It's like she's remembering something she felt a long time ago, instead of really feeling it." The little satori still sounded sad. "I wanted her to feel a little more. I wanted her to be okay."

"Isn't she?" Marisa ran a hand through Koishi's hair, and then ruffled it.

"I don't know." Koishi wrapped her arms around the witch. "She's too different. She says she's okay. I guess she can't feel very sad."

 _And what'd you do_? Marisa smiled.

"I gave her feelings back," said Koishi. "I made the echo a little louder. So that she could feel something that was hers."

Well. That didn't quite make sense. "Wasn't it yours, though?"

"Yeah," said Koishi. "But I feel more than she does. Even when I'm seeing her feelings, so…" Koishi bit her lip, and Marisa could feel little fragments of different, conflicting emotions appear and vanish as Koishi focused on her thoughts. "So I let her feel her feelings like she would if they were _my_ feelings. Like they were hers, and not some kind of echo."

And that made… a little more sense. It was impossible to understand completely – nobody had the experience to compare.

Except maybe Koishi. Marisa chuckled, and Koishi curled up against her. "I could feel her. It's… not enough to know."

To know what?

"What it's like to be her." For some reason, that was saddening to Koishi.

"You don't know what it's like to be me, either," said Marisa. "And that's okay, isn't it?"

Koishi was silent, and Marisa could feel little ripples of emotion and thought. It was true. Koishi didn't know what it was like to be anyone else.

Even as she was, it was impossible to know perfectly.

"But I know you well."

"Well enough I'd trust you with anything." Marisa paused. Koishi was frustrated.

"I almost know what it's like to be you," said Koishi. "I don't, because… I can't be inside your mind. I can't _be_ you, but I know how you think, and how you feel, because I'm around you so much. And because you share everything with me.

"I don't know her the same way. And she's… really different. She sees a lot of things, just from a little feeling. She's… old." Koishi shook her head.

"She is," said Marisa. "Do you think she's not okay?"

There were a lot of pieces that Marisa couldn't see. And yet, through Koishi, they made sense. She stated things in simple terms, and what she could not, she shared through her feelings.

Yuyuko Saigyouji, from what she understood, lacked emotion compared to most. She felt little, and what she did feel seemed like it was… far away?

Like it was a memory.

Koishi seemed to calm a little. Marisa smiled; for some reason, it always seemed to comfort Koishi when she began to think.

And Koishi had shown the ghost her own feelings, but stronger. Through the lens of… well, the lens of Koishi, who felt everything strongly enough to share it. Who was strong in all her feelings, as well as she handled it.

Marisa took a brief moment to appreciate that about the odd satori. Whatever she felt, she felt completely. And as she learned to handle it, the vulnerabilities and risks seemed to just become another benefit – she could handle her feelings, but through shared feeling and simplicity, it became easier to address each problem.

So Yuyuko felt little. It was like she was…

 _She was a ghost of what had happened, as much as she was a spirit of the dead._

Wait. Was that… Koishi?

It was a feeling from Koishi, and it was in Marisa's mind.

"I think she's more than that," said Koishi. "Do you know the story?"

"Yeah," said Marisa. _The Daughter of the poet Saigyou. Just like the tree he died under became what it is, she was surrounded by butterflies. They came to her shortly after she was born, I think. Just like the ones she has now, but… much, much stronger. Uncontrollable._

Marisa went on in thought. She was tired, as was Koishi. _And one day, she chose to take her own life._

Sorrow. Upset. The idea of killing oneself was quite painful to the satori. "Why?"

"She was alone, I imagine. And even if someone tried to keep her company, they'd die." _And they'd die because of her._

Koishi hugged Marisa tightly. "That's not _fair._ "

"…No, it's not." Marisa hugged Koishi back, and gave her a moment. Her feelings, pained or joyful, excited or confused, were what they were.

"Yukari knew her. Even then. I saw the tree…"

"Yeah," said Marisa. "I don't know much about Yukari. Nobody does. Except maybe you, now."

"I'm tired," said Koishi. She was sleepy, too. "Can we talk about her tomorrow?"

"Yeah," said Marisa. "I'm tired, too."

"Okay," said Koishi, burying her face in Marisa's clothes. "I love you."

"I love you too." Marisa leaned back, still holding Koishi.

This time, she was just as tired as the satori. Now, their rhythms seemed to match. Slowing thoughts and accepting feelings, the counting of each other's breathing, quiet joys.

Finally, their matching patterns faded into comfortable silence, and with them, the waking world fell away.


	24. Chapter 24 - The Only Moment

"Welcome home, Lady Yukari."

Ran Yakumo was surprised. Her master was smiling.

And it looked like the smile of a person. It was not the teasing smirk, not the distant smile of what Yukari could almost remember.

"How was she?" Asked Ran, daring a little. Times like these, Yukari preferred her servant to be more emotional, strange as it was.

The smile widened. "Koishi Komeiji. She saw well."

"Did you not expect it?"

"In truth, I had no expectation," said Yukari.

Ran found herself surprised, but not shocked. Her master did not calculate as she used to. Even if Ran had never been told this, it was as clear as day and night, to her. The Yukari of the present – whatever the present _was,_ to her – was a being she might have become friends with. Or perhaps a jealous foe – for even without that strange, unerring vision, that infinite knowledge, Yukari Yakumo was still far her superior.

The times of Ran Yakumo's pride had long disappeared, however. The moment she had shed myth and legend for a name that Yukari chose, that era had come to an end.

"And did she surprise you?" Ran smiled. She had not seen her master like this in a long, long time.

"She saw more of me than I would care to," said Yukari. "And she was kind."

Ran waited.

"Yes, it was enjoyable. I doubt I will see her again for… quite a while, by her time. But I will. There's…"

Yukari chuckled. "There is much to learn."

Ran's eyes widened.

The last time she had seen such expression in Yukari's eyes had been a very long time ago.

When she had first met Yukari Yakumo, she had been centuries old. Nine-tailed Kitsune, a legend of wisdom, of power, of fear. She was feared by all, respected by many, and revered by those who she had allowed to meet her. She knew the world and all its tiny paths, knew the depths of its magic and all the great powers that lay in its strange and arbitrary secrets.

It was because of such power that she had surrendered to Yukari Yakumo before a single blow was struck.

Even to surrender and be seen was a point of pride and power. What god, after all, would be made to notice an insignificant mortal child?

Yukari was a god in the eyes of a god. Individuals had been gifted with foresight – Ran had seen it. Ran had _learned_ it. Such few walked the world and watched events unfold as if they had seen it all before.

Yukari Yakumo watched nothing. It was not as if she had seen it all before – it was as if it was her story to write. One to which she still made little changes, revised small words and tiny passages simply to satisfy herself.

It was because the world was so easily known then that Yukari could be recognized as what she was. If the world itself had a master, Yukari Yakumo would stand above them.

If Ran saw the world in its entirety, Yukari saw every world in all their endless possibilities. That was her understanding, her vision.

Ran had knelt before Yukari Yakumo. Her last pride would be that she had known to kneel instead of do battle.

And instead, Yukari had smiled, as if she had opened a new chapter in the story of the world. A blank chapter.

She became master, and she gave the name. Ran Yakumo. Indigo to violet, apprentice to master.

It was more than Ran would ever have hoped for.

Yukari knew _now_ what Ran had remembered. And… she waited.

Her master had changed much. She had always been a strange one. When Ran had failed, when she was angry, frustrated, irrational – Yukari was kinder. More of a personality, so to speak.

And otherwise, she was simply a body of perfect wisdom, without flaw or blindness or weakness.

But she had changed. She always had stray moments of sentiment, of unchecked emotion. And whenever they flickered across her expression, whenever she looked at something with the tiniest hint of feeling, she acted.

Ran had not understood it. To a pride that had not yet faded, it was infuriating.

Now, Ran loved it in a way that nobody else could understand. Nobody had been at her master's side so long, seen the strange changes beyond even the greatest mystic's understanding.

She remembered the last time she had seen such expression.

Yukari had been teaching her another spell, even as barriers upon barriers folded across realities and possibilities to create Gensokyo.

She had made a miscalculation in her teachings.

It was a trivial mistake. It affected nothing – a slight angle on a single barrier, luckily devoid of consequences in further layers. Amidst thousands of equations all dependent on fleeting seconds of magic's cooperation, it was understandable.

But Yukari Yakumo, in her powers, had not _once_ made an error before.

Ran had been shocked. And Yukari…

Yukari had laughed. Not a low, knowing chuckle, not a giggle that preceded an impulsive sentiment, but an uproarious, hysterical laughter that had gone on for minutes.

Laughter and tears. Ran hadn't known what to say, what to think.

And at least, Yukari had turned to her, and spoke as she had not before or since.

" _I have won, Ran,"_ she had said. " _I am Yukari Yakumo. You are Ran Yakumo. And in time, there shall be no others."_

She had made mistakes in the time since. Minor errors, simply fixed… but not perfection. Her wisdom had become impossibilities beyond Ran's, but it was no longer the wisdom of the world's only author.

Ran had watched this change, and she had stayed by her master's side as a land of disbelief and sentiment was made.

It was a strange life. It was not the life of the powerful, of the prideful.

And yet, all these centuries later, Ran would never choose to reclaim that pride or that power. Yukari still taught her much, still treated her strangely – with harshness and then kindness, with disregard and then respect. Ran understood it as few others would – that each sentiment, as it passed, was what made Yukari a person more than a deity above divinity.

"…She could see, then," said Ran. "Even what you cannot, now."

"I could," said Yukari. "And I will not. But she could, yes. She reflected it. Ran," she added, smiling still.

"Yes, Lady Yukari?"

"Have you ever known a part of this world so well that you could navigate it without a single sense?"

Ran paused. It was not a question that needed an answer. "Yukari?"

And then, Yukari chuckled. "It is nothing more than memory, Ran."

"…And is that not important?"

"More than I would know," said Yukari.

Ran nodded. Yukari spoke beyond her knowledge, but not beyond her understanding.

"Now," she said, and her smile became a smirk. This preceded impulse and sentiment. "You have not met Koishi Komeiji. Paint her for me."

Ran raised an eyebrow.

"Now, if you don't mind!"

＊ ＊ ＊

Marisa was a little quicker to wake today. Things didn't seem to hurt so much – again, there was no headache, and her body felt quick enough to respond.

That was good. She could probably use magic again, fly reasonably well in her own reckless way – she could be the proper Marisa Kirisame again, even if there was no doubt going to be a little bit of readjustment.

Koishi, on the other hand, was already awake. She was just above the bed's edge, kicking idly as she sat in the air.

Marisa wondered if it was simply more comfortable for her to defy physics as she did.

"Yep!" Koishi waved at Marisa. "I don't know if it's more comfortable just because I do it a lot, though."

Marisa swung herself out of bed in one exaggerated movement. "Either way, I like it."

Koishi tilted her head. "We were still thinking," she said. "Talking. Before we slept."

Marisa nodded. "Right. So…"

"About Yukari." Koishi was focused, and it was hard not to follow her.

Marisa didn't see any point in resisting it, either.

"What'd you see?"

Koishi frowned. "The way you think about immortality…" She shook her head. "It made me feel sorry for her."

"Sorry for Yukari, huh?" Marisa almost laughed. It was such a strange thing to hear.

"…you say nothing lasts forever. It feels like she's lasted forever already. I could see... memories. Slower, things I could read – all her thoughts were too fast, and there were too many of them." Koishi began to fidget.

"What's so strange about memories?" Marisa tilted her head a little.

"They weren't something she was remembering. Or thinking about. They were just…" Koishi took a deep breath. "They were her feelings. Every little thing, she remembered in her feelings. It was like she'd done everything so many times that she didn't need to think about anything."

Marisa paused to think about it. How many tries did it take before you stopped having to think to remember something?

"With the tree – it was every blossom and every branch. She could remember how every single petal fell. Where each branch thinned out." Koishi was staring ahead, now. "I could feel it. When she was there, I'd know the tree without looking."

And then, Koishi's sympathy – the way she seemed sad and upset – hit Marisa completely. Every grain of sand on a beach, every star in the sky, every little branch that swayed in a breeze. How many times would you have to relive every choice before you knew everything so well that there wasn't even the liability of thought?

Even Marisa could lose count. For every life she accepted, Marisa Kirisame could not understand what it might take to _live_ such a life. To live every possible life, simply to never make a mistake.

It wasn't worth it. She feared the boredom, the eventual fatigue and despair of a single eternity.

Yukari had lived in every eternity. It was a power that every god would envy. And a power that, if Marisa had to guess, no god could handle.

And yet…

"She doesn't think like that, now. Not in Gensokyo," said Koishi. "But it's… hard. Even just seeing it."

"Yeah." Marisa pulled Koishi into a hug. It was comfort, rather than affection. "I wouldn't want to live my life like that."

And then, Marisa paused. "…she made Gensokyo to get away from it, didn't she? That barrier of hers…"

Koishi nodded. "She follows her feelings now. Now, they're like our feelings – but she follows them, even if they're strange or wrong."

Marisa sighed. "I would, too."

"You think a lot about your feelings."

"If that's what I had to live through, I wouldn't," said Marisa. It was an oddly painful truth to acknowledge, but she understood its nature, even if she couldn't imagine what it would be like to live it. "Feelings shouldn't be thoughts. They shouldn't be complete on their own."

Koishi nodded. Marisa wasn't entirely sure what she meant by that, but it seemed Koishi was.

"So she was so interested in you…" Marisa laughed, although it was a little bitter. "Because you can see her how she is, without her having to show you. You know how she feels, and who else could?"

"Yuyuko," said Koishi. "She can't feel it. But she knows."

Marisa scoffed. "Of course she does."

"She reads in feelings," said Koishi. "It's easier for her, because she doesn't really have her own. But she can take a little feeling and see a lot of things."

"Like you?" Marisa gave a small smile.

Koishi paused to consider this for a moment. "I don't know."

"Well…" Finally, Marisa grinned. She'd had enough sorrow for now – it was time to be Marisa again. "We'll find out, won't we?"

This time, it was Koishi who followed Marisa's emotion. She smiled, and hopped into the air. "Yeah!"

Marisa stretched, still gauging her own physical capabilities as she fetched her broom. "I know where I'm going, today," she said.

"Where?" asked Koishi, once again floating in the wrong way. She didn't need to ask, but she seemed to find it more fun.

"Back to the mansion! I haven't played with Flan in forever," she said. "And she gets bored, so… I like to make sure I drop by."

Marisa took a moment to think back on Flandre, letting Koishi in.

Koishi radiated interest, amusement, excitement… and quite a bit of worry.

Oh. Right.

"Yeah, she gets a little crazy sometimes. I think that's why she doesn't go out."

"She's not let out," said Koishi. She sounded a little sad, but it was clear that she was taking Marisa's lead.

"That's how they say it. Remilia's a bit of a brat about looking in charge. Flandre could get out whenever she wanted." Marisa shrugged. "She doesn't. And it's probably better that way, for now, but…"

Koishi smiled. "You're nice."

Marisa grinned. "She's fun!"

Still, the satori's worry hadn't lessened much. "Hey," said Marisa. "You'll be around this time, too. You can catch it if anything goes wrong." And then, "but I've been fine so far!"

"You just got better."

"And what better way to celebrate than getting myself in all kinds of danger?" Marisa held her grin.

Worry gave way to some little purpose. "Okay, but…" Koishi mirrored Marisa's grin. "I'm gonna play with her too, okay?"

Marisa felt her worry rise… and, in a focus on fairness, discarded it completely. "Sounds good to me!"

"No it doesn't." Koishi giggled.

"Yes it does! If it's worrying, that just means it's fun for everyone once you get past it!" Marisa gave Koishi a thumbs up. "I can handle it."

The satori paused a moment, and then giggled again. "Okay!"

"Alright. Let's go, then!"

＊ ＊ ＊

Marisa grinned at an unimpressed Patchouli. "Look. I _opened_ the window first, okay?"

"And there's still a rat in the library."

"I'm just here to play with Flan, really!"

"Put the book back."

Marisa let out an exaggerated sigh. "Geez, every time. It's always 'put this back', 'don't blow the library up', 'don't start another fight in the library'… you're no fun!"

Patchouli crossed her arms. " _The book._ "

"Fine, fine…" Marisa raised her hands in mock surrender, one of them now holding the tome in question.

Patchouli raised an eyebrow. " _Short of Eternal: A Treatise on Lengthened Lives._ I didn't expect _that_ to be one you'd be after. Did you _want_ to borrow it?"

"Only in my own way," said Marisa, waving a hand. "Your loans are too short."

"If you stole that book and it worked out, I'd be waiting even longer to get my books back." Patchouli paused for a moment. "Not immortality, hm?"

"Nope!" Marisa waved a hand. "Forever's too long."

Patchouli sighed. "You're going to take it again."

Marisa grinned. "I'd never do that."

"You gave it back."

"Did I?"

Koishi started to laugh.

Patchouli sighed. She didn't even bother to look for the book she'd supposedly recovered.

Marisa shrugged, but decided to go on a little longer. "If you're born that way, then you can probably get used to it, but… like I said, forever's too long for me. A bit longer… well, I haven't decided anything yet!"

It was almost funny. Patchouli didn't really have a setting for concern that Marisa knew of, but… well, even though she always _seemed_ serious, there was something a little bit different in her expression.

"It would be difficult to have a peaceful death if you were immortal, yes?"

Marisa grinned. "See? You get it."

"Now why _you_ of all people would want to go out in such a way…"

"It doesn't have to be peaceful for anyone _else._ " The witch waved a hand. "Either way, I don't want to have to do it myself. Or make it the wrong kind of surprise."

Patchouli shrugged. "Any lengthening of your life will no doubt benefit magic as a whole. Though _at what cost,_ " she added, glaring, "I can't say."

Marisa chuckled. "Thanks. Anyways, I'm off to the basement. Koishi knows the way!"

Koishi drifted past Patchouli, now quite definitively upside-down. "Sakuya knew it, so I do too!"

Patchouli sighed. " _Good luck,"_ she said quite pointedly, "with your recovery."

＊ ＊ ＊

The basement of the Scarlet Devil Mansion was… unsettling, to Koishi.

Everything in the mansion was bigger than it was supposed to be. Marisa knew this, and didn't care – Koishi only noticed, for the most part, because Marisa did.

But in the basement, she noticed it on her own. It seemed too large for such a barren place – too big to feel as claustrophobic as it did.

"She must be lonely," said Koishi. This place felt like boredom and loneliness. Koishi was surprised Marisa would visit it, instead of breaking it open.

Marisa nodded. To Koishi, now, she was serious, even as she readied herself for excitement and dangerous play. "She is. It's why I like to drop by," she added.

"…She's been here a long time." Koishi frowned. It didn't feel right. "Why's she dangerous?"

 _Not enough control,_ thought Marisa. "I know 'destroying anything' doesn't actually stand out that much in Gensokyo, but if she lost control outside, Reimu would…" Marisa grimaced. "Well, it'd be bad."

Koishi paused. "Is Remilia okay?"

"Well, she gets pretty defensive about it, but she lets me play with Flan, so." Marisa shrugged. "She probably feels bad about it, too."

Koishi stared at the ground. She didn't like this.

And then, she felt wild joy, excitement, all sorts of rushed emotions. For feelings, they were so _fast_. They were… almost scary. They were all so strongly felt - it was hard to read them all.

In a gust of wind – and pieces of broken floor – Flandre had landed in an instant. Koishi hadn't seen where she came from.

"Hi!"

ᅟ

"Yo!" Marisa grinned.

Flandre, for the most part, only had three modes of operation. One was the rare time at the end of play that she was actually tired out, one was the side she almost never showed Marisa – when she put some thought into things – and one was the excited, crazy child that wanted to play.

Right now, she was in the latter state. She generally was, when it came to Marisa.

"It's been a while," said the vampire, starting to pace. Her wings were silent – they always were, which didn't make any sense. Marisa thought it was neat. "Where'd you go?"

"Yeah, sorry," said Marisa. "I got carried away. Got a little… uh, hurt, I guess." It was oversimplified, but it was close enough. "But I'm better now!"

"I was bored," said Flandre, looking idly into the distance. And then she smiled, and perked up. "Wanna play?"

"'Course I do!" Marisa grinned… and then drew her hakkero in one motion. Flandre liked to play the way she did.

There was hardly a moment before the witch fired. "Tag! You're it!"

＊ ＊ ＊

Koishi watched as the two played, firing and dodging and hopping from surface to surface. It was by the rules, and yet… it felt oddly similar to the duel with Mima, in some ways.

The dodging was frantic yet rhythmic, played by instinct and moving a little faster than Marisa was thinking. She wasn't really laying out patterns in her head, estimating a path in the moment as she often did – she was just avoiding everything she could as she realized it was coming.

Flandre, on the other hand, didn't really seem to be particularly aware of how she was playing. She was excited and overjoyed and lost in the moment, but…

Underneath her thoughts and conscious feelings, there was a distinct danger – a level of force that wasn't safe, a reflex that didn't feel like it belonged to a person. It moved faster than it had to, added force that had no place in spell cards, and seemed to think of Marisa as _prey_.

And Marisa knew. She knew, even as she dodged, even as she chalked up close calls to post-recovery, even as her reflex found her only the most narrow of paths through which to emerge unscathed. She was entirely aware – it was in the nature of a vampire, she thought, and in the nature of a child. Flandre, to her, was both.

To Koishi's sight, however, the strange vampire was more than a child. There was an awareness, an acceptance of a life of almost five hundred years in isolation. She _knew_ that she should be here.

It was wrong. And it was terrifying, watching a part of Flandre's mind think of the game with Marisa as cornering prey.

A part of the mind that was… different. Uncontrolled. It barely seemed like it _was_ Flandre's.

Koishi began to fidget, and it was only then she realized she was shaking. She was more afraid than she wanted to feel – and she didn't want to put it in Marisa's way.

It was too much. Koishi interfered in the only way she could think of.

She spoke – she knew everyone would hear, somehow, over the chaos. "Hey," she said, pushing away her fear. "When do I get a turn?"

The dance stopped. Idle danmaku flew into wall and floor alike. Flandre and Marisa looked to Koishi.

The strength of Marisa's fear was shocking, to Koishi. How fast she set it aside regardless was something Koishi admired – if, given Marisa, it surprised her less.

"Alright, alright." Marisa paused. "Flandre, this is Koishi! You haven't met her before."

Koishi waved, and giggled, in spite of herself. The danger and wild excitement that Flandre had radiated before had stopped in an instant. For now, she was just curious.

"…and you want to play with me, too?" Flandre tilted her head.

Koishi nodded. "Yeah!"

And then, Flandre grinned – flashes of surprise, and then of joy, crossed her feelings. _Nobody wants to play with me,_ she thought. It was not a complaint, simply a note to the surprise, now.

"Okay!" Flandre hopped into the air. Her wings flapped as if they could matter, and again, the strange swaying crystals that adorned her wings moved in silence.

And then she started firing.

It took Koishi a little bit to realize that she was actually dodging. It was, to her, a completely natural movement, read from Marisa's view and reflex, from Flandre's knowledge of how this game was played, from a simply instinct to avoid harm. Anxiety and fear were there, but they took a backseat to such simple events.

It took even longer to Koishi to notice that there seemed to be four of Flandre. Her eyes told her this – her mind, her feelings, her instinct – all the rest didn't seem to see any such difference.

And then, Koishi… fired back. She could. She didn't know how to, but she could. It was an odd and natural dance.

It was oddly painful, now. It was a painting of times she couldn't see. A world she had blinded herself to through a closed eye. A life lived by the philosophy of a hated person. Pain and upset and fear and anxiety bled through the strange lights that she painted.

But they were different, now. Distant and less dangerous. Easier to escape, leaving paths to follow.

That was just as well. No duel in the spell card system was played for the sake of victory, and in finding those paths, in learning the strange patterns of a new partner, Flandre was overjoyed.

Three extensions of a vampire gave way to one very real one, and the dance went on. Koishi could hardly see it through her eyes.

It was an exciting game. Movement and rhythms, self and understanding – it was a beautiful little thing to share.

But it was uneasy. There _was_ a predator within the child vampire. Koishi didn't know if it was an insanity of hers, or if it was simply in the nature of a vampire that lacked control.

She could keep up, of course. She didn't think about keeping up, even. Reflex translated to reflex, and Koishi felt as if she was only watching the strange show of lights and colors pass her by.

Flandre was laughing. She was happy. And she was unaware of the monster in the dark, the predator in reflex.

That was why, wasn't it? Why Marisa felt sorry for her, even while Marisa was in danger. Why she never left the basement, why even in strange and accepting Gensokyo she remained locked away.

She knew, too. She had to – Koishi had seen her power through Marisa's eyes. The power to destroy anything. Nothing could keep her sealed if she did not agree to it.

And if she agreed to it, she knew.

Amidst the dance of childish excitement and color, Koishi began to see differently. Excitement was mixed with loneliness. Joy was spawned from surprise that there was anything left to play with.

The monster in the dark was dangerous, even in spell cards. It was a threat, and if anything went wrong, if one day somebody couldn't keep up…

Koishi remembered the quiet, simple death that Marisa had seen in Reimu's eyes, then. That was the nature of Gensokyo's rules.

It was remarkably hard to see spell cards, even if they were used, even if they were the heart of the game that defined Gensokyo now. They were, after all, expressions of the person, and in the moment Koishi saw more of the feelings than what represented them.

The dance seemed to slow. It wasn't fair. Flandre was not so different in her excitement, in her simple joys. Koishi could understand these feelings, these thoughts, even if what strange instinct lurked beneath made no sense.

It didn't belong with her. It wasn't _right_.

And then, it stopped. Lights and colors faded. Excitement stopped. Flandre stood still, looking at Koishi.

Marisa was confused. This hadn't happened before. Flandre wasn't tired.

"…you okay?"

Flandre's blank stare went on for a while. It was a long silence before she spoke. "…oh."

She looked expressionless. She was incredibly upset. Koishi found it hard to keep her balance, and that much, Marisa noticed.

"…oh?" The witch looked between the two. She didn't know what had happened, and it was all worrying. "Is it my turn?"

"No." Flandre frowned. She was trying very, very hard to look normal. "It's…" she trailed off. "It's dangerous."

"It's spell cards." Marisa wasn't sure at all, now. It was hard to think. For everyone.

Flandre took a few steps over. No playful hop, no sudden movement – just a slow walk to one of the basement's walls.

Then, she placed a hand on it… and dug in, tearing out a small section of stone.

Still looking almost blank, she raised the piece of the wall she had removed… and tightened her grip.

It did not shatter, although it cracked. Instead… it gave way. It crumbled and broke into pieces, growing smaller and smaller until there was nothing left.

The vampire let go of a handful of dust, watching as it fell and scattered, and then looked back to Marisa.

Marisa, on the other hand, was… angry. Not at Flandre, not at Koishi. But she felt as Koishi did – it wasn't right.

"I _know_ you're strong. I knew you were a vampire. I knew ever since the first time it's hard to control that."

Flandre blinked. "…You knew?"

"…first time we met. You left a few holes in the wall… in a spell card duel." Marisa grinned. "But you were playing. You weren't paying attention, but you were having so much _fun_. I didn't wanna stop you."

She went on, starting to pace. "And the next time, and the time after. I know it's not safe. I don't _care_ ," she added, with a frown. "It's my choice, long as you let me play."

And then, she laughed. "And everyone pretty much lets me in if I'm here to play with you."

Flandre's hold on her feelings loosened, and that scared her. Fear, sadness, upset – she…

Koishi recognized these feelings. It was a different danger, but it was a pain quite like the one that had blinded her – that had made her blind herself.

Four hundred and ninety five years. It was too long. It was too long, and it was not fair.

"…they knew, too. But…"

… _Did Koishi make her realize?_ Marisa suppressed the thought almost immediately, but Koishi could hear it.

Had she done this? Had she shared her feelings and her vision? Could Flandre have kept playing forever without a care in the world?

Was this her fault?

Koishi shook her head, trying to stop her own thoughts. It was too much. This old pain, and this new guilt, and all the things she might have done wrong. Done wrong, _again_. Remilia would hate her for this. They probably knew already. They would hate her, and it would be _her fault_. It would be something she _deserved._

And more thoughts that should not have been her own bloomed from there. What if she had deserved each scar that she had ever earned? If she had failed each person who had grown to hate her, in such a way.

ᅟ

"That's _enough_."

Blinding light broke forth, and the ground shook. The strange, monotone roar of a spark blotted out all sound for a moment.

It wasn't the first time Marisa had used a spark to get people's attention.

And people's attention, she certainly had, now. Koishi's feelings jumped, and then halted. Flandre looked on in fascination, her curiosity overpowering her withdrawal.

"Koishi. It's not your fault," she started. "First of all, I _brought_ you here. Second of all, all you did was show Flan something that was already there. It's not fun, but it's not like hiding things forever ever works out that well." And then, a grin, and a note of morbid humor. "Maybe if you were human, you could pull it off long enough! But you aren't."

Koishi nodded, and waited. Curiosity, pain, upset… control. Focus. Marisa had snapped her out of the worst of her feelings, and while they still hurt, they were not overwhelming.

And then, the witch turned to Flandre. "Yeah, it wasn't safe. I'd play anyways. If you let me, I'll keep coming. Koishi too. It's our choice to make, and we've been alright."

Flandre wasn't as easily convinced. "You could die." She looked to the scattering of stone dust she had made. "I can't control it."

"Who told you that?"

It was Koishi. She radiated something between sorrow and anger. She was… upset, and not even at herself, now.

Flandre looked back to the odd Satori. "…Everyone."

"They didn't want to control you," said Koishi. She was reading thoughts aloud, now, although that didn't even seem to bother the vampire. "Or use you, or anything. They weren't afraid of you. They said it wasn't your fault."

Koishi shook her head. "It's not right. Gensokyo's kind, now. You're safe, now. And you're…"

Flandre looked… strange. She was almost always childlike – almost. Now, she seemed… older. Her expression seemed tired, her voice seemed more carefully even than any child's would be. "It's okay. I'm okay."

Koishi could see beyond that. "It's _not_ okay! _You're_ not okay! You should be able to play _forever_ here!"

It hurt to see. To feel. Koishi's feelings had broken through the boundaries of her own mind now. Marisa could feel it – her breath tightening, a faint desire to cry, a feeling of injustice – these were… no, they were her feelings too, here. But Koishi wouldn't accept them.

It was overwhelming, to Flandre. All manners of expression flickered across her face, and she took a step back.

Silence fell, and Marisa was the one to break it. "Hey, Flan?"

"…what?" There was no certainty in her voice, now. She was upset, and she didn't have any way to hide it.

"Has anyone ever tried to help you?"

"Help me?"

"Control it. Change it." Marisa met Flandre's gaze. "I know it'd be dangerous. That's okay. Even if nobody else _could_ try, we can. We will."

Flandre's eyes widened for a moment. She took a step back. "It's not safe."

"I know." It was Koishi. She was starting intently at Flandre now. Whatever fears she had, they were completely suppressed, now.

"I can break anything," said Flandre, looking across the basement. It was something she'd say playfully, at times – it wasn't that, now. It was just a tired, wistful statement. "…I don't want to take a chance."

Koishi paused. She blinked. "But you _do_."

Flandre wasn't a child in every way – but when it came to interacting with people, she was always a little on the slow side.

And so, she only now seemed to realize what Koishi could see. Her eyes widened.

In silence, she began to cry.

Koishi took one step—

And the floor shattered. Pieces of the walls broke off, and as they landed, they shattered again, and again, leaving only dust. Fragments of stone dissolved as they broke off.

It wasn't an attack. It wasn't controlled, and it wasn't massive. It was, nonetheless, quite a display. It wasn't dangerous – Marisa and Koishi were both quite far from its reach.

And finally, it subsided. Flandre sat down, and started scratching marks idly in the floor. "…You should go."

"We—"

"Please." The vampire didn't look up from the floor.

Marisa took a step forward, but stopped at the feeling of a hand on her shoulder.

"I think that is enough for today, if you don't mind."

Sakuya was there, now.

It almost looked like she was smiling. "I'll escort you to the gates."

Koishi didn't want to go.

"Okay." But she was the first to agree. She could see something in Sakuya, it seemed.

The maid began to walk, and Marisa followed suit.

＊ ＊ ＊

"I have not – yet – told my mistress of what conspired."

If it was uncertain before, it was not now – Sakuya wore a faint smirk. Marisa could only guess why.

"And that's not some kinda crime?" Marisa scoffed. She was somewhat tired, and that was annoying – even the later parts of recovery were an irritation.

"As my mistress is kind, I have some discretion in how I perform my duties," the maid replied evenly. "I believe that it would be best to give the young mistress some time before opening up the situation."

"Opening it up to what?" Marisa asked.

Sakuya didn't reply. "I will let you know the moment that the young mistress wishes to see you again. If you don't mind, of course?"

"Yeah!" Koishi seemed to spring to life at the notion. "Whenever!"

"Such a change of heart may come about at… later hours."

"That's fine," said Marisa. "It's important."

Sakuya chuckled. "Indeed." She was, as ever, as hidden as she could be.

"Would Remilia be upset if she knew?"

Not that that meant much, with Koishi.

Sakuya didn't miss a beat. "My lady cares greatly for her sister, despite what it may seem."

Koishi waited.

Sakuya noticed. "I think it would be of great concern to her at the moment, yes."

"But you're not worried." The satori was staring intently. If Sakuya was not worried, Koishi certainly was.

"Within my discretion," replied Sakuya, still smirking, "I do not think that what happened will be a bad thing, in the long run. The young mistress has always been quite lonely."

Marisa frowned. "And you think we can help?"

"It would be quite fortunate if you could find a personalized way to repay some of your _particular_ debt."

"I told Patchy already, she can have her books back when I die! You're all gonna be around just the same, jeez."

"It is my understanding that you _also_ have a considerable amount of accrued collateral damage."

"Oh come on, you fix everything before it hits the ground! It doesn't count if you clean it up before the fun part half the time!" Marisa grinned.

Sakuya, of course, didn't dignify the witch's remarks. "Here we are," she said, gesturing to the front gate of the mansion. Given Sakuya, it was inevitable that they'd reach the exit the moment she wished the conversation to end.

"Is there anything else I can help you with?"

"I'm good," said Marisa, striding towards the gate. And then, she paused. "Thanks."

"You're quite welcome," said Sakuya. "Now if you'll excuse me…"

And in an instant, she was gone.

"Alright, then," said Marisa. "Let's go home."

＊ ＊ ＊

"Are you okay?"

Marisa smiled as she laid back in her bed. Koishi, today, was a little quicker than usual to attach herself to the witch.

It was honestly a little funny – that, in this particular manner, Koishi was literally, physically clingy, given that the word would otherwise be nowhere in her proximity.

"What's clingy mean, then?" Koishi yawned, curling up a little on top of Marisa.

"When people use it for romance, it just means that you're jealous and afraid of losing your partner."

"…but I _am_ afraid to lose you." The satori gave a little frown.

"Yeah, but you don't act like it. You don't demand that I take you everywhere I go, you don't get suspicious if I talk to anyone without you, things like that."

"That doesn't make any sense," said Koishi. "I love you because you're free."

Marisa smiled, and wrapped her arms around the satori. _I could say the same, but that wouldn't be enough._

Koishi hugged back. "…you're really sure Flandre's going to want to see us again."

"Completely." Marisa smiled. "She's afraid to hurt anyone, but she's been lonely for longer than I've been alive. You showed her something she couldn't see, even when she was getting wound up. Even if it hurt, it was new."

"I want to help her. I really want to help her. It's not right." Koishi curled up again, closing her eyes.

Marisa smiled. Koishi was upset – and Marisa was oddly happy to see it. It was a kindness and a drive only Koishi could have, and she wanted nothing more than to see what mark the strange satori could make on the future with such intent.

"Do you think I can?"

Marisa chuckled. "Don't know anything for sure. But yeah, I do."

"Even if it's dangerous?" Koishi was getting sleepy.

"You want to, right?"

"Yeah." And again, it was a feeling of pain, and a feeling of resolve.

Marisa nodded, and hugged Koishi just a little tighter. "There's no way Flan wouldn't _want_ to be helped. If there's a way she could just… be herself, and not be so dangerous, then of course she'd want that more than anything."

"…nobody was mean to her about it." Koishi hadn't loosened her grip. "But…"

"She doesn't think it's her fault, no," said Marisa. "But it's dangerous and she has to handle it. And she's like a kid, and she's bored, and she's lonely. So…" Marisa grinned. "We'll change it."

And then… a little bit of joy. Fear, pain, and… hope.

"Yeah."

Koishi relaxed – both physically and emotionally – and then yawned. "I'm sleepy."

Marisa ran a hand through her hair, and smiled. "Sakuya might wake us up, so… sounds good to me."

Koishi was silent, and as ever, it didn't take long for her to drift off. Marisa took a little longer, letting some idle thoughts wonder just what could come of this. Still, it was hard to stay awake too long with Koishi – it seemed that she shared all her feelings with Marisa, nowadays.

And that was okay. Resigning herself to sleep, Marisa laid back, and let Koishi's feelings mirror her own.


	25. Chapter 25 - Tapestry for the Blind

Marisa Kirisame woke to knocking at her door, and she was quick to wake.

Koishi was already up, standing by the bedside. Marisa was quick to hop out of bed – the moment her mind was awake, she knew what was happening.

It was still dark out. It hadn't been long.

She went to answer the door, and, as she thought, found one Sakuya Izayoi waiting politely on the other side.

"Heya," she said, not entirely sure how much sleep she was on. She was on the tired side, at least.

Sakuya gave a small nod. "The young mistress would see you now, if you are willing."

"We're willing," said Koishi, staring right at Sakuya. If Marisa hadn't been fully awake before, the anxiety and focus that Koishi immediately gave off meant she was now.

"Yeah," said Marisa, running without word to grab her proper attire. "Whenever you're ready," she added, a couple seconds later.

"Very well. If you don't mind staying near me," Sakuya said, her tone as even as ever, "it will be quicker."

Marisa nodded. "Alright. Lead the way."

And, wordlessly, the maid did. It was difficult to tell with certainty, but it seemed that little pieces of her professionalism had given way to focus.

It wasn't hard to see why. There was no subtlety to the fact that the world's clock had stopped. Marisa followed the maid, and Koishi followed Marisa, in turn. Until now, Marisa hadn't known Sakuya had the capability to share her powers.

The world was dark. Around Sakuya, the ordinary night could be seen clearly – simply as if it were frozen in place. Beyond that, the world lost color, and then lost light altogether, giving way to a solid darkness.

Everything was utterly silent. No sound travelled across stolen time. Marisa couldn't help but wonder how much more disconcerting this would be in good light.

Koishi took Marisa's hand. The satori was quite unsettled – this world was frozen and without life, dark and without sound, and it was not the world she was used to. Marisa, on the other hand, was still safe.

"It's alright. Time would probably just come back for us if we went out, anyway." said Marisa.

"It would, yes," said Sakuya. Marisa, watching as she often did, noted that the maid's tone seemed a little less measured. This was probably difficult, for her. "I assure you, this is no danger to you."

"I don't like frozen time," said Koishi. "It's…" she shook her head.

 _Reminds you how close the past feels, yeah?_

Koishi nodded. Marisa dragged her a little closer, and then picked her up. "It'll be alright. It won't be too long."

The feelings of anxiety in the air seemed to lessen a little, and that was helpful to Marisa, in turn.

And so, they went on. It was hard to figure out where they were, but Marisa had no doubt that Sakuya knew the way.

A few moments later, Sakuya stopped, and they were before the mansion – although it was mostly masked in darkness. She opened the gate – Meiling was nowhere to be seen – and lead them in.

The basement was quite remarkably close to the mansion's entrance, and that was doubtless Sakuya's work.

And then, time resumed. Color returned to the world. Sakuya let out a small sigh – which was beyond unusual. Carrying others through frozen time, thought Marisa, was likely quite difficult.

Koishi breathed a sigh of relief, and Marisa couldn't help but smile a little.

"Young Mistress?" Called Sakuya, hardly waiting before going on. "Your guests are here."

Flandre didn't respond, but Koishi noticed her.

The vampire sat in a corner, carving aimlessly at the floor.

"Heya," said Marisa, already walking over. She wasn't one for waiting, times like these. "You wanted to see us already?"

Flandre looked up, and it was hard to properly read her expression; there were too many mixed feelings. She was sad and upset – she also looked almost desperate. There was hope, there, and after centuries, she had no idea what to do with it.

"…Yeah." She drew another line in the stone floor.

"Well, do you wanna play?" Marisa walked a little further, watching Flandre.

She shifted away when Marisa approached… and then shifted back. Marisa took a seat beside her.

"…no." She frowned. "Still too dangerous." And then, quieter, "too scary."

It was a little painful to see Flandre like this – devoid of excitement or movement where she usually embodied both.

It was more than a little painful, Marisa thought, for Koishi. Koishi, who strode over to the vampire without hesitation.

The satori sat down in front of Flandre, and… closed her eyes. She was focusing, and Marisa knew this was difficult for her – vibes of frustration and effort occurred in the witch's own mind as she did.

But Flandre responded. Her eyes widened, and then she stood.

She took a step back. Koishi opened her own eyes, and stepped forward. "It's… okay," she said, still sounding a little strained. "It's okay, like this. It's safe."

Flandre raised one hand… and then lowered it. She was shaking.

And then, Koishi pulled her into a hug, and she didn't resist.

After some time, Flandre returned the hug. She was still shaking – she was still afraid.

Koishi smiled. "It'll get better, okay? Even if it's hard now. I can help you."

Koishi was afraid too. Marisa could feel it. She was afraid that she couldn't help, that she'd hit her limit early, that this was all she could do.

And even so, she was smiling. She was unmoving, unwilling to worry about those doubts, now. She wanted to help more than anything could possibly dissuade her.

 _And I'm behind you, all the way._

Finally, the two let go. Flandre was, again, crying, although it was quiet – tears without sobbing. "I feel… strange," she said, her voice now quite uneven.

"I can hold it back," said Koishi. "Because it's not you. It's not what I see, so… I can let you feel that, instead. I can _help_ you feel that."

Flandre sighed. Her wings twitched, and there was a jingle of crystal – almost like wind chimes, although the tones made little sense.

And then, she scratched at the floor again, and watched. No stone broke, and no path was etched.

She seemed almost frozen. Marisa, on the other hand, looked to Koishi.

ᅟ

And Koishi watched as uncertainty overwhelmed Flandre's mind.

Nothing like this had ever happened before in the many centuries of the vampire's life. It hadn't even occurred to her that it might be possible to change how she was, and now…

Now, it was a little too much to understand. There were more possibilities, now, than could be full understood in the moment. There was more to wish for than Flandre had ever dreamed of.

It was terrifying, and it was hopeful. It was terrifying _because_ it was hopeful. Things that had been comfortably abandoned as idle daydreams were now within the realm of possibility.

And Koishi waited, thinking of what she had been, and how she had changed. Thinking of the possibilities that Marisa had helped her find, everything that had changed when she opened her eye.

It _was_ scary. But it was _right_. Whatever Flandre was, she was not a monster. She didn't deserve to spend eternity locked away. She was dangerous, but… she didn't have to be. Koishi had felt anger before, now. She had seen what others could become without thought, what hatred could turn people into.

Anger and hatred didn't have to be who somebody was… and Koishi refused to believe that the strange beast within the vampire had to be who _she_ was, either.

Koishi took a seat beside Flandre, smiling. She was afraid… but she was hopeful, and there was a joy in that hope. "I know it's scary."

Flandre paused, and… Koishi shared. She knew she could, and she knew she _was_ sharing. She felt the memories, the old fear, the crippling pain that returned with the opening of her third eye.

And she remembered what came after, too. The hope, the uncertainty… and the series of discoveries that marked a kinder world, now.

 _You're not alone_ , she said without words. _Not anymore._

She could feel confusion, fear, and uncertainty. She could feel Flandre's pain return as acceptance began to crumble. There was hope, here, and the vampire didn't know what to make of it.

She didn't know, and she wanted to follow it nonetheless. Everything that she had once given up on was… possible.

Here, the monster inside her was quiet. It was a part of her, but every other fragment of Flandre was stronger in this moment.

And then, the vampire pulled Koishi into a tight hug, and began to sob. She was terrified, in the end. Hope came with fear – to reignite every old emotion, when such hopes could fall short, or simply shatter when nothing worked. She didn't _want_ to face those fears… but she wanted to hope. She wanted to believe that there was a world in which she could play, in which she wasn't just… the keeper for a monster that could destroy everything.

A world in which she was allowed to _be_ a child, sometimes, instead of simply feeling like one.

Koishi held on, smiling. She understood. She understood the fear, and the pain, and the acceptance, the resignation to the fact that the world would not be kind. In moments, everything that Flandre Scarlet had accepted for centuries had come crashing down… and she _wanted_ it to.

And so, Koishi held the vampire, thinking simple comforts as Marisa had before. She understood, now, what Flandre felt.

"It'll be okay," she said, looking ahead. "I'm here. We're here. We'll come back to play. We'll keep coming back until it's safe. It'll be safe."

Koishi could feel Marisa's smile. Flandre had no words, even as she began to calm down.

And, finally, the vampire let go, and again, her wings produced a chorus of odd, crystalline tones. "…thank you."

Koishi giggled. "Of course! You should be free."

Flandre smiled back, and it was unlike before. She was tired, now, and tired in a way she hadn't been before.

The vampire let out a long yawn… and then a small yelp as Marisa picked her up, grinning.

"I didn't ask for _that_ …" mumbled Flandre.

"You're tired, aren'tcha?" Marisa kept on grinning.

"…yeah." Flandre pouted, but didn't resist.

"Well, call it bedtime for tonight, then." Marisa walked onwards. "Hey, Sakuya," she added. "Where _is_ her bed?"

Sakuya was there, although she didn't answer. The bed was, of course, just in front of Marisa – it had always been there, but the basement's shape seemed to match how Sakuya thought of it.

There were faster thoughts, laid out in frozen time, but Koishi didn't try to read them.

Flandre made a small show of sulking as Marisa dropped her into bed, but didn't really seem to have the energy to protest. A few moments later, she curled up, and looked at Koishi.

"…Thank you," she murmured, and Koishi could feel fear and pain begin to drain away. Flandre was quite sleepy, now, and hope seemed to be what would carry into dreams.

This, at least, made Koishi happy to know. She waited a few minutes longer, counting the pace of breath and thought as she did with Marisa.

Moments later, Flandre was asleep.

Koishi yawned. She was tired, too. She hadn't slept much.

And Sakuya, of course, was right on time, wordless and in form.

Marisa sighed, but her feelings were of minor amusement. "What, we come in here for all this and we don't even get to wander on our own?"

"You might wake her up again if you cause a commotion," said Patchouli.

The librarian, on the other hand, was… stressed.

… _If I know Marisa, then they're entirely set on helping her._ Patchouli frowned. _Remi won't like it._

"Why not?"

Patchouli paused for a moment. She had entirely forgotten Koishi's third eye. "She's… sensitive about her sister."

"My sis is, too."

"Your sister has considerably more restraint. And didn't have to seal you away." The magician shook her head. "It is a sore spot, and her helplessness in the matter…" _It harms her pride, and she cares greatly for her sister._

"And you think she'll be angry at us?" Koishi was worried, now. The parallels between Remilia and her sister were not lost on her, and… the thought of the older sister's anger made her feel doubt.

"I think it will be _my_ job to explain it to her." Patchouli sighed. "Make no mistake: if anyone has a chance of changing what has been set in stone for so long, it is the two of you. Your unique ways, and Kirisame's infuriating penchant for the impossible."

 _But she will be afraid, as well. One accident is all that it takes to break the rules. One person._ Patchouli looked to Marisa, who had been quietly listening in. "Do you understand the rules you are playing with, here?"

Marisa met Patchouli's gaze, and any amusement faded. "…Yeah. It's my—"

" _Don't be stupid._ " Patchouli's voice was sharp, now. It had an edge that Koishi had never heard, before, and it was clear that the youkai magician was _quite_ concerned, despite herself.

Marisa recognized this, too, and she took it quite seriously. Images of an infuriated Reimu flashed through her mind.

Patchouli went on. "If there is an accident, and Marisa Kirisame disappears from Gensokyo one day, do you honestly believe that it will simply pass because it was your decision to risk such an occurrence? You think that the Hakurei Shrine Maiden would simply allow it, solely because the danger was your own choice?

"If a human seeks out a youkai without respect for the rules and meets their end, is there no investigation? No extermination? If a child wanders too far from the village, was it simply their risk to take?" Patchouli continued to glare through Marisa. "No. Reimu would not allow it to pass. She _could_ not allow it to pass.

"So it would serve you well not to make such juvenile assumptions. It is simple folly to take on responsibilities that you do not understand – so if you wish to help, then _understand them_."

Koishi, now, was afraid. The worlds she could see in the consequences that Patchouli spoke of were dark – they were broken. Painted in loss and conflict.

If Reimu came to exterminate a threat within the mansion, Patchouli knew that they would resist. No matter the rules.

No matter what happened, it would be a dark day.

And the risk was not Koishi's own. It was not her life alone, not only the lives of those who chose to take such a risk.

She took a deep breath… and waited. She looked to Marisa, and waited, now. She could hold her fears back for the moment – it was not enough for her to think through them.

ᅟ

"You're right."

Marisa met Patchouli's glare without flinching.

"I'm _right_." Patchouli was not impressed.

"It's a giant, stupid, reckless risk, and it's not just my life at stake. Not even the two of us. If it went that way… you'd probably all die trying to stop her, too, wouldn't you?"

Patchouli didn't reply.

And then Marisa smiled. "But you're as stupid as I am, aren't you? I'm here because I can finally see a chance to change what's been wrong for centuries, and you can't give up on that either, can you?"

Patchouli opened her mouth, and was cut off by Koishi.

"Even if you say Remilia will be afraid, or that it would just…'create an intolerable amount of conflict if she did not allow Flandre the chance', that's not why you're going to talk to her about this, is it?"

Patchouli paused, and then let out a small chuckle. "You know, _that_ is the sort of thing that tends to make people dislike mind-readers."

Koishi blinked. "No it's not."

Marisa paused. That was not the reaction she'd expect – and that was, in its small way, quite exciting.

"Oh?" Patchouli raised an eyebrow, but she seemed just a little more relaxed now.

"It might be annoying, but that's not going to make anyone hate us for everything else. People hate us because they're afraid of what we'll think about their thoughts. You're not afraid of that."

Koishi, Marisa realized, seemed to be taking her cues from Patchouli – who was, as always, almost completely matter-of-fact.

And Patchouli smiled. "You're not wrong." And then, she looked back to Marisa. "I suppose you're right – it is another rare case, as you might put it, of Patchouli Knowledge being sentimental.

"Still. You'd best hope you're not mistaken."

Marisa nodded – for once, her recklessness wasn't particularly funny. "Yeah. I'll try my best."

Patchouli sighed. "Well, I'll see what I can do, then. Now if you'll excuse me… it's going to be a long night."

And with that, the magician departed, and Sakuya gave a small nod.

"Yeah," said Marisa, acknowledging the unspoken offer. "Let's go."

＊ ＊ ＊

"…It's about Flandre."

Patchouli Knowledge waited out her mistress' gaze. For nearly anyone else, it would be quite an uncomfortable silence. For the magician, it was simply a natural proceeding for the situation.

Remilia trusted her librarian, in an odd way. With Patchouli, there were no minced words – there was no care for authority or gentle treatment, and for whatever her reasons were, the Scarlet Devil had accepted this.

What this meant was that Patchouli Knowledge, reclusive as she was, was the one expected to explain any serious matter to Remilia.

The vampire took a deep breath, and then smiled thinly. "So the witch's night-time visit was important after all, then. I'd been wondering."

Patchouli raised an eyebrow.

"However uneducated you so incessantly paint me as," started Remilia, "I am not _blind_ to every happening within my own house."

"My apologies," said Patchouli, slightly relieved. With anyone else, such barbs would be a sign of lost composure – and, as such, anger. Between the two of them, they were a slight push from Remilia, and nothing more. "Your sister has traditionally been a rather sensitive topic."

Remilia scoffed. "It was obvious from the start, Patchouli. Flandre has been _quite_ anxious around me recently.

"So one way or another, you _will_ be explaining it to me. It would be prudent to do so now."

Her smile was gone.

Remilia was, more often than not, somewhat of a brat to Patchouli. In most matters between the two of them, she had long abandoned composure. Random barbs and childish demands were par for the course – and if something really had upset her, it was made _quite_ obvious.

Flandre was the sole exception. Patchouli, even averse to emotional estimates as she was, knew why: it was an area in which Remilia Scarlet felt failure – and didn't care to admit it.

And so, feeling as if she still had to be the best older sister she could be, she was formal and composed. She attempted to be reasonable and measured at every turn, hiding the fear that any break in such composure might come at her younger sister's expense.

Remilia's pride was far more durable than it looked. If she seemed a brat, she took any fall or successful slight far better than her demeanor would imply. For all she acted as a puppetmaster, an organized hand behind the tides of inevitable fate – she accepted nearly everything outside of her control.

Flandre, still, was beyond that. Even with Patchouli (and even, she suspected, while alone), to lose composure in these matters would be more than her pride could take.

Nearly five centuries, and Flandre was here, sealed away beneath the mansion. Remilia nearly blamed herself, and she couldn't bear to.

"Of course," said Patchouli. "It's been two visits. One was… well, it was Kirisame, as she is. She came to play with Flandre."

"Of _course."_ And there was another thing Remilia would never care to admit. For every theft and slight, Marisa Kirisame's somewhat regular play-dates with Flandre were much appreciated.

"Koishi Komeiji accompanied her, this time."

"And?"

"She took a turn playing with Flandre."

Now Remilia looked quite irritated. " _What_ did she do?"

So Koishi's powers were still a subject of some tension, too.

Patchouli went on. "I'm not entirely sure—"

" _Then give me your best guess."_

"—But it seems that she made Flandre more aware of her powers. And, perhaps, her nature."

"Her _nature_? She is— _"_

"The _entirety_ of it." Patchouli remained firm.

"Then they have terrified and scarred—"

" _Remi._ "

Patchouli was, for the most part, the only person in the mansion allowed to be harsh to her mistress. Allowed, however, didn't quite fully describe it – she was _expected_ to be the voice of reason, no matter how much pretense it required her to abandon.

Even so, it wasn't pleasant.

The vampire took a deep breath, still glaring. "…Go on."

"Being as they are," said Patchouli, "they then offered to help."

"…To help Flandre?" And there it was. Anger drained away as uncertainty replaced it. With anyone else, uncertainty _was_ anger – vulnerabilities were to be defended

Patchouli nodded. "I believe that if anybody could find a way to change that we could not, it would be them."

Silence. She went on.

"Koishi's powers extend past thought; she can share and manipulate reflex and feeling alike. If anything could allow Flandre to overcome or understand her… impulses… it would be such an ability. Kirisame… well, she's always had a penchant for the impossible."

"…This is not a game." Remilia's gaze would be intimidating if it weren't so desperate, now.

"I made that abundantly clear, yes. There is much at risk."

Remilia took another deep breath. Right now, she was not the Scarlet Devil, and she was certainly no master of fates. In this moment, she was little more than a desperate, caring sister. "…Do you really think they can?"

"I do not know," said Patchouli. "There is no precedent. I simply believe that it is the greatest chance we will ever find."

"…Fine."

Remilia turned away. "Leave me be. I'm… convinced. Enough."

"Alright." Patchouli paused, and then, in a moment of uncharacteristic sentiment, added, "let me know if you need anything."

Remilia didn't answer, and Patchouli went to return to the library.

Sakuya was quick to join her as she left Remilia's sight, and Patchouli noted that time had ceased its otherwise inevitable movement for their surroundings.

The maid said nothing, but knowing her, this was certainly word enough. "She accepted. Readily."

Silence, still.

"She's desperate, in her own way." The magician sighed. "She's aware of the risks we are taking, and she didn't hesitate."

The maid nodded. "She has always cared for her sister."

Patchouli scoffed. "You're quite concerned yourself, no?"

Sakuya offered a small smile in return. "My occupation is dependent on the well-being of my mistress. I'd think it natural to show some concern."

"Natural, hm?" Patchouli smirked, and Sakuya was silent as she offered a gesture to the right. They were at the library.

"Thank you," said Patchouli. "I imagine this is far from the last we'll be hearing of this, though."

The maid nodded as time began to turn for the world.

Tiny movements in an instant told Patchouli all she needed to know. Sakuya could take the time to think it an instant – she had not taken the personal time to match all the smaller details. Slight motions in hair, in clothes, faint changes in expression let the magician know that Sakuya had taken some time to herself.

The willingness to show such minor imperfections was an honor afforded only to the librarian, in most cases.

"I allowed this to happen," said the maid at last, "and we are both aware of our mistress' nature. Within my discretion, I believe this is for the best."

Patchouli nodded. "I certainly hope so."

Sakuya nodded. "Is there anything else I can help you with?"

"I'm fine, thank you." Patchouli waved a hand.

With that, the maid was gone.

Patchouli took a seat, and leaned back. What was to come, it seemed, was going to be uniquely difficult.

＊ ＊ ＊

"You're worried."

Marisa glanced to Koishi, who was in her usual place in bed – curled up on top of the witch.

"Yeah," said Marisa. "Just thinking."

Koishi closed her eyes. "I can handle being hurt."

"Physically?" Marisa frowned. "I know you've gotten stronger, but…" _I've never seen you get hurt that way._

Koishi stopped to think.

And then clung to Marisa tightly. The upset that followed was not subtle.

"When was the last time?" asked Marisa. She could tell it had at least happened before, now.

Koishi spoke quietly. "…when they tried to kill me."

She was shaking. Marisa hugged her back, closing her eyes as she did.

The witch found herself repeating the same mantras she had before, when Koishi had first re-opened her eye. _You're safe now,_ came the thoughts, barely conscious. _I'm here_.

The two were silent for some time.

"…Let's go see it," said Koishi. "You can come with me. I'll show you, this time."

"Like Mima?"

"Yeah."

Marisa thought about this. She wasn't, in truth, too keen on watching the first-hand story of how the past had torn apart Koishi.

To help her face that past, however, and to overcome parts of it? Marisa couldn't think of anything she wanted to put _more_ effort towards. It would be unpleasant, but it would be worth it… and, in time, it would help another.

"I'd love to," said Marisa, smiling. "It'll be hard, but… I know you can do it."

Koishi nodded, and curled up against the witch. "You're here for me."

"Long as I live." Marisa ruffled the satori's hair. "And I love you."

"Love you too," murmured Koishi. "M'sleepy."

A few seconds later, her breathing evened out – she was quick to sleep, today. Whatever she had done for Flandre today had taken a lot out of her.

Marisa would be slower to follow, still thinking on her possibilities. She knew Flandre well in personality, but she had little clue about the depths of her instability.

It would be difficult; that much was certain. Flandre had been locked away in the basement for four hundred and ninety five years, when Marisa had first met her, and it was obvious that this was a regretful truth. She was allowed – almost unceremoniously – to play with Flandre, despite the games of cat and mouse she otherwise played with the mansion. Remilia would speak little of her sister to any outsider, and now, Sakuya and Patchouli had both made it clear that this was important to risk their lives for.

Four hundred and ninety five years was a long record to break.

Marisa grinned a little, looking down to a sleeping Koishi. _If anyone can do it…_

The witch leaned back, and waited for sleep to catch up.


	26. Chapter 26 - Painful Dichotomy

Koishi Komeiji let out a small sigh.

The paths of human villages always felt nice. Sounded nice. The thoughts that scattered about as people went about their lives formed a soft drone, an enjoyable noise in the background.

The satori walked onwards, letting herself feel the uneven grounds of the village. People were looking her way, but she paid them no way.

One step, then another. Koishi began to hop from one foot to another, acting on a simple whim. It seemed just a little more fun to stay on one foot at a time, right now, and so she did just that.

She was smiling. She always smiled! _The best days,_ she told her sister, _always happen to you when you're smiling._ And she believed that. People smiled for their best days, when they walked by thinking thoughts of kindness and joy.

Thoughts that they would never share with her.

That was alright. People didn't have to share. They were what they were, and they were pretty and strange and exciting nonetheless.

She still chose to smile, though. If she could make one other person smile, then maybe they would have one of their best days, too! Koishi wanted to make every day a good day.

Her sister worried a lot about her. Satori was very, very kind to Koishi, and Koishi appreciated that.

Simple thoughts. Simple steps. One after another. Koishi stumbled in one of her hops, and giggled as she did so. No flying, of course! That would be cheating.

And the humans didn't like flying.

Koishi giggled again as she spotted somebody she knew. A child, a little girl, wandering about the fields of her family's garden.

"Hi!"

The child waved back, and smiled. "Hi Koishi!"

Koishi hopped from one foot to another, and took a moment to appreciate the little happy thoughts of the girl. Children were simpler, in their minds, and they didn't seem to mind Koishi as much. They weren't afraid of her third eye. The younger ones didn't even seem to think it was unusual – she could read them their minds without much surprise.

This girl was a little older, so Koishi held back, and spoke to her normally instead. "Do you wanna play again?"

The girl's face sank. She started to fidget.

 _Mom and dad said I shouldn't talk to her..._

 _They said it was dangerous._

" _You can't trust a satori."_

" _It's not safe. Don't go near her."_

"…I can't." The girl looked to the ground.

Koishi took a shallow breath… and smiled brightly. "That's okay!"

"Mom and dad said I can't."

Koishi nodded. "I'm sorry. I'll make sure I don't make them mad," she added.

She didn't really have any way to fix it. The girl couldn't find her, but Koishi would get her in trouble if she came back or was seen. "Keep having fun, okay?"

The girl nodded sadly, and waved as Koishi left.

When she didn't leave, the children got in trouble.

Koishi turned to walk back where she'd come from. She'd go back home for today.

She wondered when Satori would be busy. These times, it was a little better if she could sneak into home. Her sister always started to think sad or worried thoughts when Koishi had a day like this.

Koishi had a lot of days like this.

And that was okay! It only took one good day, only took a little bit of hope. Even if she couldn't touch them, the life and movement of the people around her was still pretty. One day, Koishi thought, she wanted to see even more of the world. It was so big, and so much of it would still be new.

The satori whistled herself a tune as she walked back the path she'd followed earlier, and started her way homeward.

＊ ＊ ＊

Koishi was immediately aware of Marisa's tight embrace.

The witch was… much sadder than Koishi thought she'd be. That wasn't even a bad day, what she'd remembered. The sounds had been nice, the road had felt alright, and she'd found a nice little rhythm in her hops.

"Why are you so sad?" Asked the satori, and Marisa replied without words.

 _I know what happened, y'know._ Marisa smiled. "You didn't deserve that."

Koishi hugged the witch back. "Thanks."

"Always."

The satori was… still upset, really. She'd been hiding from how much those thoughts hurt, then, and she didn't hide it now. She didn't think she would survive it, if she were to somehow go back.

But she couldn't handle it then, either, could she? She wasn't sure how it would have gone, without the final straw.

Still.

"I can face the past. I'll be brave."

Koishi let go of Marisa, and looked her in the eyes. Marisa smiled back, and Koishi could feel that quiet, indescribable joy that they so often shared, there.

"Well, I'm going with you either way!" Marisa gave a grin. "Ready for today, then?"

And then, little pieces of doubt made themselves known in Marisa's feelings. Tiny fragments of thought.

Koishi frowned. "Are you hiding something from yourself?"

Marisa paused. And then, thoughts and feelings came up, and her grin faded all too quickly.

"…Yeah, sorry." Marisa shook her head. "…Was just thinking about what Patchy said." _I think we've got to warn Reimu._

Koishi paused for a moment, reading through Marisa's thoughts and feelings. "You're afraid."

"She might not let us. It's not… technically against the rules, but… if anything _happens_ , it is." Marisa shook her head. "I already broke the rules once. She's going to be angry." _And I don't know how angry._

"…But we should." It was obvious why, now: whatever they meant to help with… it wouldn't work if Marisa was struggling with this much fear. The witch might lie on a whim for fun, but she couldn't lie to herself, and she couldn't lie about important things.

This was both.

"She'd figure out anyway," added Marisa. "She always does."

Marisa knew that Koishi was forcing herself to think, now, because Marisa's own worry was stronger than she was used to. It was the witch's habit, to stop and think through her feelings, and Koishi chose to use that same habit for herself, now. "What if she says no?"

"I don't _know_ ," said Marisa. The question made her just a little angry. "Maybe we try anyway."

 _If she's not too suspicious by then._

Koishi nodded.

 _We should see her now._ Marisa was gritting her teeth. She was afraid, and she was being reckless, and these feelings had mixed with guilt and uncertainty. She knew that Flandre deserved better, that in the Gensokyo of the present she should be free. She couldn't be certain that it was the right thing to try, with the risks that followed it.

"…Yeah, I know," Marisa took one deep breath, and then… grinned. It was forced, but with it, her composure came back. "We should just go see her now. It's…" Marisa sighed. "If we don't, I'm gonna be stupid. And not Marisa enough."

Koishi nodded.

 _And better now, before we start hiding things. And before we might…_ Even Marisa's thoughts trailed off for a moment. _Before we might have to stop._

"Ready?" Marisa hopped onto her broom.

Koishi pulled her back off the broom, pulling her into one tight hug.

There was still a warmth in that, at least. Koishi could feel Marisa smile. "Don't you be afraid just 'cause I am. I'll be okay."

"You're not sure." Koishi didn't let go.

"Isn't that what the future's about?" And from that warmth, Koishi could feel Marisa hold onto just a little bit of her confidence.

For now, that was enough. After a long while, Koishi let the witch go.

"If she gets angry…" Marisa said, looking into the distance. "Like before, don't get in the way. She won't hurt me on the spot. Promise."

Koishi nodded. Marisa was certain as she said, here.

"Alright. Ready?"

"Yeah."

＊ ＊ ＊

Marisa had never been nervous about knocking on Reimu's door before.

It was _stupid_. It felt stupid. It was _not_ going to stop her.

She went ahead and did. Reimu opened the door almost instantly.

"…Hey," said Marisa, hesitating just a little.

Reimu looked the witch up and down. "The door? No tricks?" She sighed. "I've already got a bad feeling about this."

Marisa didn't respond. Reimu's expression went from slightly sullen to grim. "Oh. So it really _is_ bad news, then. What?"

Koishi followed Marisa quietly. "I'm… I've got something to ask you."

Reimu didn't even blink. "Come on in. I'll make some tea."

Reimu was quiet, now, without complaint or open irritation, and it was… terrifying. It was like she was already prepared for the worst.

She was, Marisa knew. It was not a pleasant atmosphere.

Tea seemed to take a small eternity. Quite unlike her usual self, now, Marisa waited in silence.

Reimu served the tea in that same silence, and then took a seat. "So what is it?"

"It's about Flandre," started Marisa. She forced herself to meet Reimu's gaze. It was useless to feel this guilty before anything had even come up, before she knew what was going to happen.

"She's always been dangerous. Did she do something wrong?"

Marisa shook her head. "No. It's us."

Reimu's glare became colder, somehow. The entire room seemed to become colder. "I know you play with her a lot."

"Yeah." Marisa shook her head. "We…"

Koishi cut in. "We want to help her. We want to help her be _less_ dangerous."

"How?" Reimu looked to Koishi, and Koishi radiated her fear, although she tried her best to hold it in check. It was difficult for Marisa to stifle her own reactions – it was almost overwhelming, almost a painful feedback loop.

But not yet. "You know what Koishi does."

"So you don't know how." Reimu was still staring. She wasn't moving.

"Not until we try," said Marisa. "But it might be dangerous. We're not playing, not dodging spellcards – we're going to try and change it."

Reimu took a sip of her tea. Marisa went on.

"And if something goes wrong, if something happens to us…"

"Then you break the rules again," said Reimu. Her voice was cold. "And you want me to go ahead and let you try anyway."

"…Yeah." Marisa looked down. "I know it's selfish, but Flandre's… she's just a kid. She's been locked away for centuries."

"Because she's dangerous. Because Remilia couldn't change that. Not with fate, not with magic, not with anything else. And you're going to try anyways."

Marisa nodded, and again looked up to meet Reimu's gaze.

Reimu shrugged. "Fine by me. Just one condition." She sighed, and looked down.

"…eh?"

"If something happens to one of you," Reimu began, staring at Marisa once more. "Just to one of you."

"…Yeah?"

"Whoever lives puts her down."

Silence filled the room. Koishi's feelings were overwhelming. What the _hell_ was Reimu asking? _Why?_

"… _What_?"

"You heard me. If there's an accident, if she kills one of you. Whoever lives, kills Flandre Scarlet." Reimu stood up. "She's like a child. If she does that by accident, she won't fight back."

How could she even _think_ like that?

"I can't," said Koishi.

Reimu glanced at the satori, and then looked back to Marisa. "Well?"

Marisa stared back. "…How could you…" She trailed off. "No. I can't. I won't."

In an instant, Reimu Hakurei was upon her. "Then _why are you asking me to?"_

"I—"

"What do you _think_ happens if she kills you? _What do you think the rules are?"_ And now, Reimu was no longer cold. She was angry. Koishi was terrified for Marisa, although she held herself in place.

Reimu was angrier than before, now, and there was no stopping her. "I ask you to do what I'll _have to do_ in _one condition_ and you can't even do that, and you want to go ahead and risk it? _You'll_ be dead, and _I'll_ be there to clean it up. Do you even _care?_ "

"I do." Marisa met her gaze.

"Then do you know what the spell card rules are for? You _lived_ here then. You were here before the rules. You were here when Mima almost killed you. When your parents did what they did because they were _scared for your life_. Do you think I _don't_ have to clean up if something goes wrong?"

Marisa stared back, and… said nothing. What was there to say? It was a selfish request. It was one person over the safety of Gensokyo.

"They wouldn't let me kill her, and you know it. I bet they know it too. So the only part that not a _single one of you care about_ is _who has to be the murderer_."

And then, one deep breath, and Reimu stepped back. Cold, once again. "Youkai attack humans. Humans exterminate Youkai. That's how it is. You can't ask me to break the rules. You won't even _follow_ the rules, and you want me to let you go ahead and try this when I'll have to clean up. How selfish can you _get_?"

Marisa took one deep breath, and then let it out. "…You're right. It _is_ selfish. I'm… sorry."

"Sorry? So what?" Reimu stepped forward again. Marisa could feel Koishi begin to tense again. "Is that it?"

"…No." Marisa felt smaller than she'd felt since she first met Mima. "I'm sorry because I can't just… give this up." She met Reimu's gaze. "You didn't see her. She _saw_ what she is. She knows why she's in the basement. She just… gave up on it. For how many years? And just _once_ , she didn't."

There was a long silence. "So you're saying you're going to try anyways, no matter what I say?"

Marisa was silent. It was strange, how much worse the guilt made her fears.

"Go on, lie. I know you like to. Tell me you won't." Reimu's hand twitched, just a little.

"I'm not going to lie." Still, Marisa stood her ground.

"So you'll try anyways, is that it?" Reimu grit her teeth.

Marisa hesitated… and found enough of herself to summon some anger at that hesitation. "…Yeah."

And then, Reimu grabbed Marisa by the collar, just like before. Amulets were in her hand, now, and Marisa didn't recognize these ones. " _Then do you know what you're telling me?_ "

Marisa said nothing, but held a hand up. _I'll be okay,_ she thought, and Koishi stopped short of any interference.

Reimu tensed. "You're telling me _I should have killed you the last time you did this to me._ "

Her eyes were wide, now. Her grip on Marisa was far, far tighter than it needed to be. She was shaking.

Marisa opened her mouth to speak, and… said nothing. What _could_ she say? Reimu wasn't wrong. She couldn't bear to leave Flandre as she was, but…

She couldn't do this to Reimu, either. She could try, but…

Marisa looked away. "Alright."

"Alright?"

Marisa took a deep breath. She was… ah, hell. She was holding back tears, now. Trying. "I won't do it. I won't try."

Silence. Marisa went on.

"I'll tell them I can't do it. I won't come back here, either. I won't break the rules again. Won't even come close. Alright?"

Marisa wasn't looking when Reimu let her go, and she stumbled backwards.

"Get out." Reimu turned away.

"Yeah. I'm sorry." Marisa turned, and begun to walk. "Let's go."

Koishi didn't move. "…stop," she said. It almost sounded like she was choking. She was on her knees, now.

"Koishi?"

"Please. Stop." She looked up at Reimu. She was shaking, now, and she was crying. "You're hurting each other. A lot."

Reimu froze.

"You…" Koishi's eyes widened. "You're not sure either."

The shrine maiden was almost still. Marisa could see the faint twitch.

Koishi leaned forward. She was desperate. She _felt_ desperate. "You don't want to—"

Reimu threw the amulets to the ground, and the shrine began to quake. Strange, transparent shades of blue flickered across the air, blurring vision without color or force.

One cup of tea fell to the ground, spilling across the floor of the shrine. Spread liquid echoed the trembling of the ground in ripples.

It was a one way barrier. Layers more than Marisa could even hope to read. Out, but not in. It wasn't a spell Reimu had ever used openly.

"I said _get out_."

Koishi looked up… and then stood up. Her fear seemed to lessen just a little. She didn't say anything, but she followed Marisa.

The two went in silence, leaving Reimu, crossing the strange barrier she had constructed in her outburst.

"…Let's go home." Marisa couldn't bring herself to look Koishi in the eye, now. She couldn't bring herself to look _anyone_ in the eye, now.

＊ ＊ ＊

Marisa hated these moments. And, right now, she hated herself.

Always forward. Always in motion. Marisa Kirisame didn't hesitate for long.

 _I dunno about you, but I'd rather crash face first into change than never make progress._

She remembered what she'd told Koishi, back then. She'd been so casually confident.

And yet everything about Marisa's philosophy felt like a mistake right now.

That was how the biggest mistakes worked, of course. You almost always wished you hadn't made your mistakes, but the biggest ones left you imagining all the ways you could have avoided them – they had you wasting your time living an imaginary life, a lie where you hadn't so damaged everything you valued.

 _Even if I mess up, even if people hate me, even if I lose the friends I have…_

That was it, wasn't it? That was probably the last time they'd even talk. Did Marisa just give up on every incident to come to keep out of the way, now?

How many years had it been?

"Don't think like that," said Koishi, staring at Marisa. Marisa had taken to bed the moment she'd arrived, and she hadn't moved since.

 _Don't tell me how to think._ Marisa paused. It was harder to stop thoughts than words."Sorry."

Koishi frowned. "It's okay. But under your thoughts, you know better."

"Better than _what_?"

"To think like that. You don't try to guess what you've lost when you feel like you've lost everything, right?"

For once, Koishi had kept her distance. Right now, Marisa really didn't want anyone to touch her, and the satori could tell.

She didn't feel enough like herself, and it was a feeling that almost made her sick. There was Marisa Kirisame, the charismatic, irresistible, Ordinary Black-and-White Magician, and then there was the selfish screw-up that seemed to have taken her place for now.

"But you're—"

Koishi stopped, and Marisa winced. "Hey, Koishi?"

The satori took a deep breath. "…yeah?"

"Can you not respond to my thoughts, right now? I just… I need a little more space." Marisa was trying her best not to cry. How many things had she just completely destroyed? Flandre was left with nothing, Reimu probably…

She took a deep breath. It had not been this hard to think straight in a long, long time.

"Yeah," said Koishi, taking a seat in the air. She was worried, and she was hopeful, and Marisa could feel it.

But it was quieter. She was trying her best, and the small, delicate satori was holding it together.

She was holding it together, and Marisa Kirisame couldn't. All these years, and she was as much of a failure as—

A sharp intake of breath from Koishi reminded Marisa that this wasn't much of her usual self, right now.

Okay. Thoughts. Feelings needed to be held back. But… what came now?

She stared at Koishi, who looked back at her.

And smiled. She was worried, afraid, and hurt, too, but she was smiling.

Marisa took a deep breath. Hiding wasn't any better than running away.

"…You can talk, if you want. I know I'm thinking stupid things."

The satori nodded. Marisa knew there was a lot she wanted to say, but right now…

Marisa smiled, in spite of herself. She was watching. She was listening, and she was being careful. She was trying her best to do anything she could.

"I am," said Koishi, hopping off her odd perch. She took a seat by the edge of the bed, looking at Marisa still.

Marisa was quiet. She just stared at the ceiling. After everything, after all this stupidity… she was tired.

Koishi started to look a little blank, and then took one, deep breath. She was afraid, and she was having a hard time holding onto it tightly enough to hide it.

"Reimu wasn't sure," she said, at last.

Marisa's stomach dropped. Her vision blurred a little. It hadn't occurred to her that she could _have_ any feelings more excruciating than the ones that were plaguing her before.

What if—no. She couldn't bear the pain of imagining better futures. She didn't have the strength to accept the mistakes she'd made if…

She was crying. Barely. She couldn't hold on.

"She didn't want to refuse."

"Koishi—" Marisa fell short of words, and… thought, instead. _I'm sorry._

Koishi looked back at her. "Why?

 _I'm not strong enough right now. I can't think like that. I can't hope right now._

Koishi replied with a distant, gentle smile. "That's okay."

Marisa closed her eyes, laying back. Nothing felt okay right now.

Well, almost nothing.

"…c'mere," said Marisa.

She exhaled sharply when Koishi collided with her for a hug.

And found it just a little hard to catch her breath. Koishi was holding her quite tightly.

That…

That was okay.

"When I thought I couldn't hope anymore," said Koishi, still holding Marisa as tightly as she could, "I ran. I hid. I closed my eye.

"And it was a long time. Don't know how long it was… but at the end, you came. You helped me see again. You helped me hope again."

Marisa didn't say anything. She hardly thought anything.

"You won't run away. You won't hide. I know you won't. I know it hurts, and I know everything feels broken. I can feel it from you."

And then, Koishi loosened her grip, and looked Marisa in the eyes. She was crying, quietly, but she was smiling. "So I'll help. I know it's too much to hope right now. I know hope's scary. That's okay."

Koishi was in pain, too. She was afraid, too. But she was more hopeful than she was afraid or hurt. More determined.

"I'll hope for you. It'll be better tomorrow. I know you know that."

And Marisa did. The practical parts of her, buried underneath shock and pain and fear, were still there. They had to be. They had been, before.

She was really, really tired. This much, though…

Marisa managed a small smile. "Yeah. I know, I know."

Everything felt broken. Not everything _was_ broken.

These moments – this moment?

For now, this moment was alright. It wasn't a solution, and it wasn't everything, but it was enough to rest.

Koishi giggled, and then leaned forward, giving Marisa a kiss on the cheek.

Marisa kissed her back, and smiled. This was enough to make it to tomorrow. This was enough to sleep on. Then… then she could think. Then she could feel again.

Marisa pulled Koishi into a hug, burying her face, and allowed her exhaustion to take over.

It was a quiet, broken joy that colored Marisa's fading consciousness.


	27. Chapter 27 - A Spirited Kind

_You can't be Reimu Hakurei._

It was still dark outside.

Wonderful.

Reimu didn't tend to have trouble sleeping. She didn't think about much at night – she laid down when she was tired, and woke up the next day.

 _You can't be "Reimu Hakurei"._

Or when she was woken up. People seemed to enjoy bothering her. She wasn't sure why – she was about as boring as anybody could be.

And she'd woken up far too early this time.

It wasn't exactly a surprise. Not much bothered her, but when something did, it was hard to let go of. It made sense, really – ignoring irritating things came naturally to her, so when something got past that, it was always going to be difficult.

 _You can't be "Reimu Hakurei"—_

 _I don't care._

Right now, Reimu could hear those damned words over and over: you can't be "Reimu Hakurei".

She remembered them too clearly. She knew what they meant, although she had spent a long time ignoring it.

The last Hakurei shrine maiden hadn't really been known by name. 'Miss Hakurei' was about as informal as anyone got.

 _You can't be "Reimu Hakurei"_.

She didn't care. She was the Hakurei shrine maiden, and she was Reimu.

You can't be the Hakurei shrine maiden and be your own person. That was what that meant. You can't be Reimu and Hakurei.

But she was Reimu Hakurei, and no guidelines or imagined rules could change that, for better or for worse. She was Reimu, and if it took the introduction of the spell card system to allow the Hakurei shrine maiden to be her own person…

Well, Gensokyo had changed, and Reimu was pretty sure it had changed for the better.

And still, those words came back to haunt her now.

She had been furious at Marisa. She wasn't, now – she was still angry, but…

Well, there wasn't much to be angry at. She hadn't wanted to refuse. Gensokyo – _her_ Gensokyo…

Reimu sat up, sighing. She wasn't getting back to sleep tonight.

She didn't enjoy being the one to refuse, the only one to think coldly of the rules when those rules began to work against the spirit of a free Gensokyo.

 _You can't be Reimu Hakurei_.

She was Reimu Hakurei, one way or another. Perhaps she was a disappointment – a failure in the Hakurei bloodline and a traitor to her duties as the shrine maiden – but she was who she was. That, in the end, was all there was to it.

Hopefully that failure wouldn't cost anyone else.

She was on her feet now. If she wasn't getting back to sleep, then she had things to do.

Moments later, she was prepared, and she wasted no time in departure.

It didn't take her long to clear the forest, nor the lake. All things considered, the Scarlet Devil Mansion wasn't too far from the shrine – freedom of flight made most of Gensokyo easy enough to reach.

She flew over the gates. This time of night, Meiling wasn't on duty… but vampires would no doubt be awake.

Reimu landed in front of the mansion, and stepped forward.

"I don't believe the mistress is expecting you," came a voice from behind.

It was Sakuya, Reimu knew. She didn't turn to look.

"I'm here to see her anyway."

Both were silent for a moment; Sakuya was the first to break the silence.

"The mistress usually prefers for appointments to be made." Sakuya was silent for a long moment.

Reimu waited.

"…But I am sure she would be happy to make an exception for you."

Reimu stared at the maid. She considered making her own way in, for a moment.

She knew that it wasn't the time or place to put her anger. It certainly wouldn't help the situation now. "Fine."

"If you'll come with me, then…" Sakuya gestured towards the gate, which was open, now.

Reimu followed without word. The mansion was small, today, and she didn't see any use in questioning that.

It was small, and it was quiet, now. Sakuya walked with her through frozen time, and on any other day, it would be at the least a strange experience.

Today? Today, there was no room for idle observation. The strange, whimsical nature of Gensokyo fell in behind the matters at hand – matters that, as ever, were the concern of the Hakurei shrine maiden.

Reimu barely noticed as time resumed.

"My lady will see you now," said Sakuya, stepping to the side as they approached.

Remilia sat on her throne, waiting. However abrupt Reimu had been, the vampire had been tipped off.

Reimu didn't care.

Remilia smiled. "Reimu! What a pleasant surprise."

The vampire stood. "You're an unexpected visitor, even as far as unexpected visitors…"

She took one look at Reimu as she spoke, and then trailed off abruptly. "…go. Ah."

Remilia had never been that good at hiding her expressions, as much as she played games with her various acts. Reimu wasn't inclined to read them anyways, and now was no exception.

"Yeah," said Reimu. "Not the time."

The vampire sighed. "You…" She trailed off. If Reimu cared, she'd have thought the scarlet devil afraid.

"I know," said Reimu. "So."

Remilia met her gaze, and did not speak. Reimu didn't hesitate to go on.

"Tell me everything you know about your sister."

＊ ＊ ＊

Marisa wasn't sure if she'd woken abruptly.

She felt like she'd jumped, but clearly, she hadn't moved from her place in bed. And despite that, she could feel her heartbeat, feel a faint buzz throughout her body.

A few seconds later, it felt like she'd been lying there forever.

Marisa Kirisame felt sick. It had been a long time since she'd woken up feeling this way. The last time…

The last time had been with Alice, years ago – the last time that Marisa's mistakes had felt like such burning, irreparable injuries.

Whenever she thought of those times, she always told herself she knew better. And she did, now, even as she thought through these frustrating processes, pointedly ignoring the shades of physical illness she felt.

She didn't know if things would be alright. She didn't _know_ how much was broken, now.

"…That's better, though…"

Marisa was quickly reminded of the satori on top of her – and the main reason she hadn't moved from bed.

Koishi stirred, now, moving herself sluggishly off of the witch.

Marisa opened her mouth, and… stopped. She wasn't sure where exactly her train of thought was. _What_ was better?

"That you don't know," said Koishi, stretching. "Last night, you felt sure nothing was okay. Now you're not sure what is. That's a good thing, right?" She tilted her head.

Marisa sat up in bed and took a deep breath. "…I don't know, yet." And then, she turned to the satori, and gave a tired smile. "If you think so, you're probably right, though."

The witch found herself back in bed again as something between a tackle and a hug hit her.

Not that she minded. "What's up?"

Koishi smiled. "You trust me!"

It was, as ever, a genuine joy.

Marisa smiled back. That much, she could do. "Of course I do." And then, she paused, and added, "I gotta get up though. I could stay in bed all day, like this."

Koishi nodded, and let the witch go. Marisa, in turn, swung herself out of bed. Today… well, what'd she have to do now?

And there was the nausea, again. She had to tell the others what had happened. That she couldn't…

Marisa took a deep breath.

...That she couldn't help, after everything she'd said and done.

Her vision seemed a little blurry, now. It had been a long, long time, and feeling this way wasn't any more fun now than it was some years ago.

Still, she couldn't let that stop her.

Koishi was clinging to her, again.

"I can do it, y'know," said Marisa. "I know you've never seen me _this_ bad before."

"It still hurts," said Koishi.

"Yeah." Marisa ruffled the satori's hair. "Let's…" She hesitated, but did not allow herself to stop. "Let's go visit the mansion."

She opened the door, and, of course, found one Sakuya Izayoi.

"I don't believe that will be necessary."

ᅟ

The first thing Koishi noticed, above all else, was that Sakuya felt like a person – not an act, or a perfect record as she often did. Her feelings seemed… normal, and for Sakuya, that was far from normal.

Marisa was surprised. That was rare, too – although Marisa was never this tired. _They… know?_

Marisa was the first to voice her thoughts. "You know, then…?"

"We had a visitor."

"Reimu."

Sakuya nodded. "She was quite serious; she came to see the mistress, and I suspect she would have used… unusual force had I resisted."

"What happened?"

Koishi pulled Marisa into yet another hug. She was tensing up, now, and Koishi was sure that she didn't have to.

"Eh?" Marisa looked down at Koishi.

"It'll be okay," said Koishi. She was more certain of that, now.

Sakuya, of course, did not miss a beat. "She had come to ask about our young mistress – to hear everything we could tell her."

Marisa waited.

"In the end, with some… questionable language, she left." Sakuya shook her head, and Koishi felt some measure of quiet relief. "She did not, on the other hand, make any demands of us, nor did she use any degree of force."

"…So she's…" Marisa shook her head. "She was _pissed_. Looked like she was gonna step on me right there."

"However enraged she was at what you told her, she was… composed when she came to the mansion." She paused, and added. "Although I suspect her abrupt entry may have had some other reasons."

Marisa took a moment to think about it, taking a look at Sakuya. "You mean Remilia's powers?"

"It is far more difficult to weave fates one is not privy to, yes."

Marisa shrugged. "And you don't know what she wants?"

"As I said, she had no demands of us." Sakuya wore a faint smile now. "If I were you, however, I would not expect this to be your only visit today."

And at that, Marisa felt just a little more comfortable. She chuckled. "Y'know, usually I'm bringing the trouble to everyone else's house." And then, she stretched. "Well… thanks for letting me know. Sorry for all this."

Sakuya nodded. "My lady will be hoping to see you again," she said. "At your earliest convenience."

"Yeah, I'll be there." Marisa gave a grin, although Koishi knew it was somewhat forced.

And with that, Sakuya was gone.

 _Guess we're waiting, then._

Marisa wandered back to her bed and took a seat. "You doing okay?" She asked, looking to Koishi.

Koishi paused, and took a moment to think.

"…I think so," she said. She wasn't quite sure.

"You think so?" Marisa tilted her head. Koishi giggled – that was her own habit, and Marisa seemed to have picked it up.

"Depends what okay means." Koishi looked back at Marisa. "I'm not sure everything's okay. Things are still scary.

"But I'm not afraid of them, even though they're scary. I'm going to keep trying. And I'm going to keep hoping until you can hope again."

Marisa paused, and Koishi found herself surrounded by many different feelings. Hope and a painful happiness were the shades that colored most of the witch's thoughts, but time with Marisa had taught Koishi to see the smaller currents of emotion, too. Pieces of guilt that Koishi had to hold on to her hope, bits of embarrassment at being kept down. Concern for Reimu – for how she was doing, and for what she was going to say. Concern for Koishi, for Flandre – Marisa still had a lot to deal with.

Koishi heard one thought above the feelings.

 _I'll be okay._

Marisa was smiling at her. "That's enough to hope on," she said. She was still tired, but she felt… well, she didn't feel sick, and Koishi could appreciate that.

Did that mean that sick was an emotion, too? That you could _feel_ sick without being sick?

She'd ask later. Marisa was still under a lot of stress.

Instead, she took a seat beside Marisa, and waited.

Silence fell between them for a while.

"I'm… ah, jeez, this is silly." Marisa frowned. "But since we're waiting here anyways, I'm gonna take a nap. See if I can start the day off right this time." _I'm really tired,_ thought the witch after, almost without direction.

Koishi nodded. "Okay! I'm gonna stay awake."

 _Gonna stay here?_ Marisa fell back into bed.

"Yeah." Koishi smiled at the witch. It was hard for her not to, sometimes. Most of the time! It was one of those small, nice things.

"Alright. Hate to ask, buuuut don't blow up anything _too_ big." _It'll wake me up._

"I probably won't!" Koishi grinned at Marisa, who laughed.

"Good answer."

＊ ＊ ＊

"...didn't really _want_ to."

Marisa woke up to… voices. In her house?

"She knew," came Koishi's voice. "She didn't really want to give up, either, but..."

"We've known each other for a long time, unfortunately." There was a short pause; Marisa knew Reimu's voice in an instant. "And she pays attention, annoying as she is."

Marisa was confused, and being confused by _Reimu_ of all people was downright unacceptable.

In one fluid motion, Marisa sprang out of bed, and—

Abruptly bounced off a barrier, landing a little behind where she'd jumped from bed.

"Hey," said Reimu, giving Marisa a sideways glance. "Thought you'd wake up about now."

Marisa sighed. "How'd you even get _in_?"

"Your girlfriend let me in." Reimu smirked a little, and it was comforting and infuriating.

"I was going to wake you up!" said Koishi, drifting through the air. "But she told me not to."

Marisa just stared.

Reimu shrugged. "Figured you could use the rest."

And Marisa chuckled, in spite of everything. This was the closest thing Reimu had to subtlety: sometimes, her general apathy made sarcasm and truth all but indistinguishable.

"Just this once, I guess," replied Marisa, stretching. "You kinda tore me a new one."

Much to the witch's surprise, Reimu Hakurei actually looked guilty.

"…Yeah." Reimu shook her head. "I was angry."

"I didn't notice," said Marisa, grinning. "Figured you just woke up on the wrong side of—thehouse'llblowifyouthrowthosethatway!"

Reimu stopped, amulets in hand, and glared at Marisa.

Marisa grinned back. "Not that I'd mind," she said.

Reimu let out a sigh, and then… hesitated.

Marisa decided to keep things going. "So how come you're here?"

The shrine maiden gave Marisa a long, tired glare. "To let you go ahead and be an idiot."

"…After all that, huh?" Marisa chuckled. "How come?"

"You knew." And clearly, Reimu knew that Marisa knew.

"Sakuya was by earlier," said Marisa. "You gonna answer the question?"

"Shut up," said Reimu, shrugging. Knowing her, it was more of an automatic statement than anything else, and she went on. "Because I'm Reimu." She waved a hand, and added, "because I'm a failure."

It wasn't exactly an impassioned statement.

Marisa, on the other hand, was interested now. Reimu didn't share that much about herself. She didn't exactly _dodge_ anything if you asked, but it was hard to ask the right questions of somebody who so rarely gave you any clues.

"A failure, huh?" Marisa didn't have much of her usual, obnoxious insanity in her, but she pried nonetheless. "Because you changed your mind?"

It was a half-hearted grin that the witch gave, but it was the thought that counted. Especially with Reimu.

Reimu glanced at the set of amulets she'd almost thrown earlier. "Because I'm Reimu Hakurei."

"That means a lot to you," said Koishi, kicking at the air.

"Not my choice," said Reimu. "I got told I couldn't be Reimu Hakurei a lot, is all. The Hakurei Shrine Maiden was just that. How're you supposed to keep all the rules when you're just a person?

"I didn't care. Don't."

"Doesn't quite sound like it," said Marisa. "You do a good impression, though!"

It was true. Bothering to talk about it at _all_ was unusual for Reimu. Maybe she just felt guilty for what she'd said earlier, or maybe she thought about this a lot – either way, she cared in some form or another.

What form that was was anyone's guess; she shared too little and too rarely for Marisa to read.

But not, of course, for Koishi.

"You don't _choose_ to care," she said. "I think you do, though."

Reimu shot Koishi a glare, although Koishi didn't seem at all uneasy. And then, to Marisa's surprise, the shrine maiden seemed to… relax. Her expression softened, and the following sigh seemed more tired than irritated. "It works fine just to pretend I don't, really. And it's true, most of the time."

"And I kicked the hornet's nest, huh?" Marisa, in spite of herself, still felt more than a little guilty. Genuine guilt on Marisa Kirisame, and actual disclosure from Reimu Hakurei, what a day today was. "…Sorry about that. I got carried away—"

"Don't apologize." Reimu looked at Marisa. "Is Gensokyo today the same Gensokyo it was when you ran away from home? When Mima found you?" Reimu smiled in a manner that seemed altogether unlike her.

This was, in Marisa's opinion, likely the closest thing to full disclosure the shrine maiden would ever give.

"Not at all. But I get it." Marisa smiled. "It's different 'cause of you. It's your…" Marisa chuckled.

"It's my Gensokyo. It's not mine, but it's mine. Sounds like something Yukari would say," Reimu added, with a more characteristic distaste.

"And what you want Gensokyo to be…"

"I'm Reimu Hakurei. We're living in a ridiculous place that exists because people in a world that makes any sense stopped believing in stupid things. So…" Reimu trailed off, and left her words in the air.

"So you figured it might as well accept those things nicely, huh?" Marisa, on the other hand, knew enough of Reimu to guess – hell, Reimu probably didn't even have the words to explain, given how quietly and completely she usually avoided any issue of her own. "And if it takes changing all of Gensokyo so you could be Reimu and not just the next Hakurei Shrine Maiden, then that's just what it takes, yeah?"

The witch laughed out loud. "And people say _I'm_ stubborn. All I wanted was my own freedom, y'know? You were a lot nicer than that."

"Didn't have a choice," said Reimu, although she was smiling. "You really _do_ pay too much attention, you know."

"I've toldja before," said Marisa, turning a more innocuous smile into her trademark grin. "If I didn't, I might accidentally do the right thing for once! I've got a _reputation_ , y'know?"

"Oh, _I know_."

Koishi giggled, and when Marisa laughed in return, the two broke out into laughter. Reimu, who was still very much Reimu, just glared at the both of them and stood up.

"Anyways, that's all I've got," she said, stretching. "I'll let you two figure it out from here."

"Hold on," said Marisa.

Reimu sighed, but didn't make any move to leave. "What?"

"What'd you tell them? At the mansion?"

"Pretty much what I told you, and the same warning I was gonna give you before I left." Reimu hesitated, but her expression didn't budge. "If things go wrong, I'm still doing my job."

Marisa nodded. It was hard to hear, still. "…Thanks."

"Don't thank me."

"I couldn't do it," said Marisa. "And it's not a funny thing to be ungrateful about."

"It's really hard," said Koishi. "And it hurts you. And you're willing to make that promise for us. Even when it breaks the rules, and when you have to change them and when it makes you feel like you're a failure—"

"She's a kid," said Reimu. "You two get that, even if you don't _get the rules_ – we shouldn't have to lock her up. Not in this Gensokyo." Reimu shrugged. "It's my Gensokyo, and that's why I'm a failure, and that's why I don't really care."

Marisa couldn't help but chuckle as Koishi pulled a nonplussed Reimu into a tight hug.

Reimu sighed. "Just this once," she muttered, rolling her eyes. "You're… welcome. Whatever."

Koishi giggled as she let go.

"Well, guess that's that," said Reimu, still looking rather unimpressed. "I'm going, now."

Marisa grinned. "Sure. I'm coming with. Koishi, you wanna come?"

Reimu sighed. "Don't just invite yourself…"

Koishi giggled. "Sure!"

"Alright!" Marisa's grin widened. No matter how serious things were, once they were done, it was _never_ too soon to return to being properly obnoxious. "Race you to the—"

＊ ＊ ＊

"Did you _always_ make your seals this sticky?"

Reimu sighed.

"And durable. Jeez."

Marisa was still wrestling with a few seals stuck in her hair. Reimu had been hoping the one over her mouth would hold up as well, but Marisa Kirisame, in all her obnoxious antics, was nothing if not resourceful.

"Eh, I'll get 'em later. It's a good look on me anyway!" The witch gave an insufferable grin, and it was all too familiar.

"It's a stupid look," said Reimu, although her usual edge was a little half-hearted. She was… well, she was tired.

Reimu was often tired of things. People, incidents, troublemakers waking her up in the mornings, youkai with too much pride, villagers demanding too much – just about everything was annoying and tiring in some way or another, to Reimu. To be just tired, without incident or normal irritation, was different.

And right now she was tired. She'd spent most of the day feeling like a miserable failure, and she didn't have much emotion left for it.

Not that she had all that much emotion to use in the first place.

"You okay?"

Reimu turned to face Marisa Kirisame, and found the witch was now devoid of grin or subtle mockery.

This didn't surprise her, although it seemed rather unnecessary.

Lying to Marisa, on the other hand, seemed more work than it was worth. Even normal, polite lies didn't stand much chance in the face of Marisa's constant, _annoying_ perception.

"Just tired," said Reimu, shrugging. "It's been a long day, I didn't get much sleep, and now you're crowding up the shrine."

Marisa nodded. "Doesn't seem like the usual tired, is all."

And that was Marisa Kirisame. Annoying and inconsiderate as any idiot could ever be, and somehow paying attention all the time despite that.

"I shouldn't be moving the rules at all," said Reimu. If there was anything comfortable about the ever-troublesome witch, it was that she knew Reimu well enough not to make the painful things difficult, by now.

It meant Reimu could talk, and not worry that it was, as many things were, not worth the effort. "Spent long enough being told that, and even I know that I should draw some lines. If there are a few too many breaks, then the spell card rules might not hold after all."

"So you're feeling like a giant screw-up, huh?" Marisa chuckled, although it was without mockery. "Can't say I haven't been feeling the same."

"Well, guess we can screw over Gensokyo together," said Reimu. Her mind wandered briefly back to Marisa. "I know you mean well. Did at the time, too."

"…Thanks." Marisa nodded. "I knew I wasn't right, y'know? But I'm soft. Maybe it's 'cause of how Gensokyo is now, but…"

"That's _why_ Gensokyo's that way now," said Reimu. "I didn't want to be a tyrant or something. Too much work, dealing with angry people."

"…And a pain to deal with sad ones too, huh." Marisa smiled, looking out from the shrine. "I guess taking credit for it yourself is too much work, too, huh?"

Reimu, in spite of herself, laughed. "It really is."

The two were silent for some time, watching the sky turn a little darker. The sun was starting to set, now, and Reimu took a quiet moment to appreciate the view. In spite of everything, the small moments had their own meaning.

"Oh, Koishi's making tea. Hope you don't mind."

Reimu sighed. "She is, is she?"

"I hope you're okay at it, because she doesn't know how to!" Marisa grinned.

"So she's just doing it my way." Like many other things, a sense of what was conventional was too much effort. Why waste so much time being surprised?

"Yep!"

"And you're using my tea."

Marisa made an expression of shock and disappointment. "After everything we've just been through, you think I'd steal your belongings to make it up to you?" The faux injury gave way to a broad, irritating grin. "I'm hurt, Reimu. Of course I'm better than that."

"I'm _sure_ you are." Reimu looked away from Marisa – the witch was emanating smug amusement, and it was annoying.

"I am! The tea's from the mansion." Marisa paused. "Unless Sakuya asks. Then I stole yours."

Reimu took a deep, deep breath… and sighed. " _Thanks, Marisa._ "

＊ ＊ ＊

It was a strange day. Usually, by a long day's end, Marisa was at least making plans to shake it off the next day. She knew she needed to visit the mansion tomorrow at the latest, but…

But for the moment, she was exhausted. Reimu had opened up, almost all the bad news she was going to have to break had been averted, and whatever hopes Marisa had held before could once again stand on their own.

As much as she hated to admit it, she still felt bad. She had put a _lot_ of stress on Reimu with nothing but her own wishes. They were her wishes for somebody else, but that didn't change that it was both her initiative and desire.

The risks… well, that much, at least, Marisa could accept. A lifetime of recklessness and stubborn, forward motion left her with little ability to hesitate, and even in the face of greater consequences, she could fall back on that habit. The guilt, on the other hand, was difficult; Marisa was used to being completely shameless in her actions, and that left her all too exposed on the rare occasion she _did_ feel guilty.

"It's okay with me," said Koishi, sitting by Marisa's bed.

Marisa, right now, needed the rest. She needed a moment once again to recover her wits, to remember what exactly it was that she wanted to be.

"I know it's hard for you," the satori continued, smiling at Marisa. "Because you usually just want to keep moving when you're tired. So it doesn't keep you stuck, right?"

"Yeah," said Marisa, sitting down on her bed. It had been a long, long time since the witch had felt this sort of guilt, and the last time she had, it had kept her from action for far too long. "I know I need the break," she added, stretching before allowing herself to fall back into bed.

"But you don't know how easy it is to get stuck now." Koishi giggled. "That's alright!"

"Even if you don't mind—"

"I'll make you move!" Koishi drifted into the air, waving her arms. "If it takes too long, I'll drag you everywhere, okay? Like you did for me!"

Marisa paused, and took one long look at Koishi.

Marisa was, ironically enough, a relatively trusting person. She was more than happy to tell impulsive, ridiculous lies for humor's sake, and she rarely felt the need to let anything wrong stand without challenge – and if she was wrong, then _somebody_ had to challenge her, whether they liked it or not. She often assumed that people – if and when they were the right kind of stupid – would lie to cover their own insecurities.

And yet, in spite of all these things, Marisa found that constantly suspecting people of being anything but what was _there_ was a waste of good effort. In the end, the best that could come of it would be to prevent herself some pain, and constantly suspecting everyone just to avoid some personal emotional injury was not Marisa Kirisame's style.

And so, she enjoyed the character of the carefree, insane witch – and found herself altogether unconcerned at the thought of her dedication and hard work coming to light. She made a mockery of everything she could, and felt nothing more than perhaps slight irritation at being serious when the odd occasion called for it.

"You don't have to trust me with that," said Koishi, pre-empting Marisa's next thought.

Marisa let out a small chuckle. "It's a little hard to tell what you're reading when you do that now, y'know."

As Koishi had clearly seen, trusting one's nature to another was still a different matter. Marisa trusted any friend of hers to be themselves. She even trusted them to help her out if she really needed it – enough so that the Old and Stupid Marisa had come to Alice in shame when she'd left her master.

This was the inverse, in a sense. She was trusting somebody else to help Marisa be Marisa, and that was almost entirely new – and almost entirely personal.

And yet, if anyone could do it, it was Koishi. In a sense, she had before – just before Marisa had gone to meet her old teacher again. At Koishi's request, Marisa had let everything loose, knowing that she'd put it all together again to face Mima the next day.

This time, Marisa wasn't so prepared for the next day. But for now? For now, that was alright.

"I want to, though." said Marisa, at last. "And I can." _So why wouldn't I?_

Koishi answered with a glowing smile, and pulled the witch into a tight hug. "Thank you," she murmured, before kissing Marisa on the cheek.

It was all but impossible not to smile back, now, and Marisa let that feeling stand alone for a moment before she returned the kiss.

Koishi giggled. "It's nice," she said. "That I can give back."

"It's funny, y'know," said Marisa, staring up at the ceiling. _People can give a lot more back than they think_. "Alice keeps me around. Patchy hasn't gone crazy yet."

 _And Mima…_ Marisa chuckled. "Well, you were there for all that."

"I was!" Koishi laid back in bed. Well, on Marisa, who was in bed. Close enough, especially for Marisa.

Marisa closed her eyes. She was sleepy, and Koishi knew it, too.

For once, thinking _less_ felt appealing to Marisa, and unsurprisingly, little followed that.

"G'night, Koishi," murmured Marisa, already losing track of reality.

"Good night!" she heard back. She felt an odd, familiar warmth, and with that, Marisa let reality slip away.


	28. Chapter 28 - Freedom to See

Life would be a lot easier if you could choose what to forget.

That was an odd thought for Koishi. As far as she knew, she wouldn't choose to forget anything even if she could.

...Still, she couldn't help but feel that life would be a lot easier if she had that choice.

Everything was a lot easier, before. Koishi remembered the liveliness of the human villages, the ups and downs of their daily lives. Sorrow and joy, boredom and excitement, little things that mattered more to one person than another – it was a strange, observable web of people being themselves.

She had always adored it, even though she had so rarely been a part of it – even the children, once unafraid and different from their elders were held back from her, now.

The satori walked along the same roads she always had. The bustle of life went on around her, quieter than it had ever been.

It was because of her. Fear blanketed what she neared. The sounds and feelings that such lives held became muted, apprehensive, waiting – hoping – for her to leave.

And leave she did, for Koishi Komeiji was always in motion. She moved from one foot to the next, hopping in little patterns that made no sense to anyone else. Smiling, always, because there was little reason not to.

Her sister was more worried, these days. It was much harder to keep her concern at bay when…

Koishi let that thought fall away.

She was tired, although she knew she'd slept enough. She wasn't sure why.

She didn't want to know why.

Koishi Komeiji walked on. It was a different path every time, but she kept seeing the same things.

She knew the world had countless different joys to offer, still. She just had to find another path.

…

"Heya."

And then, Koishi Komeiji felt many, many things at once. Many of them were foreign to her.

 _She remembered that voice._

Were these feelings hers? Who was that?

She turned around to look where her third eye was overwhelmed, and found a strange person.

Oh.

 _Those were her feelings._

 _Marisa Kirisame smiled. "It looked like you could use a bit of company, s'all." She took a seat on her broom, drifting by Koishi._

" _You're not supposed to be here," said Koishi. She took a seat beside Marisa._

" _I know," said Marisa. "But I didn't just want to sit and watch. And you know the difference."_

 _Koishi pulled the witch into a tight hug, and the air of the past began to fade. "Thank you."_

 _Marisa hugged Koishi back. "Anytime, you."_

 _Koishi let the dream fade in silence. She remembered the past, now, but she held it in the present._

" _I'm okay," she said. And then, "I love you."_

" _I love you too," said Marisa. Her voice was soft, and Koishi noticed, now, that such a tone of voice seemed entirely reserved for her._

 _Maybe she'd share it one day. There had to be a lot of people out there that'd appreciate it._

" _Maaaaybe not so soon," said Marisa, grinning. "Got an image, y'know?"_

 _Koishi giggled. "Eventually!"_

 _Marisa chuckled. "Sure, sure."_

 _Koishi smiled, and let the last of the dream fade._

＊ ＊ ＊

Marisa felt a faint tugging, and recognized Koishi's voice.

She mumbled something to the effect of "give me a moment". She'd meant that at the time, although she wasn't sure just how much time had passed before she thought about it again.

Marisa Kirisame only considered that she might have taken a little too long when her bed exploded.

A protective ward or two went off as Marisa hit a wall. She managed to dodge one half of her mattress entirely, although the second grazed her.

Alright. That was—

Marisa had lived in her own house long enough to know what that rumbling sound was.

She was a little too slow, however, to escape the avalanche of books that it signalled.

Through all the books that she was now buried in, Marisa could distinctly hear a hysterical giggling. And, in truth, she couldn't help but laugh too.

"Alright, alright," she said, pushing aside pile of books to sit up. "You got me."

Koishi was still laughing. "You—" She lost her sentence to laughter, and tried again. "You didn't think that one would work!"

That alone was enough for Marisa to know which trap that was. "How'd you _move_ it?" She asked. "Figured that book'd blow when you touched it, if it was gonna work at all." More books tumbled aside as she stood up. Marisa Kirisame was quite awake, now.

"I dunno," said Koishi, now sitting beside Marisa in the air. "It didn't do anything the first time I threw it. So I tried it again."

Marisa grinned as she looked at the scattered remains of her makeshift bed. She was definitely going to need a new one.

Well, that's what she got for sleeping in. You snooze, you start your morning with explosions.

"That one worked!" Koishi mirrored Marisa's trademark grin, and right now, it fit her very, very well.

Koishi was almost glowing with pride, now, and Marisa could feel it. She could tell why, too. As silly a request as helping Marisa with being Marisa was, Koishi had been on the case the entire time.

"Thanks, you," said Marisa, still smiling. "I almost slept in," she said, with an appropriately horrified tone. Marisa Kirisame, sleeping in? That was simply too much to bear.

Koishi pulled Marisa into a hug, and then giggled again. "One of your books flew off, too."

Marisa looked up. There was an appropriately sized hole in her roof.

Wait, was that the launcher, or did one of the magic books come to life?

Koishi was already giggling at the thoughts. Marisa decided she'd figure it out later, if it didn't surprise someone else first. Hopefully, it would.

For now, though, Marisa had more important matters to attend to. She hadn't done much yesterday, and she was wanted at the mansion at her 'earliest convenience' – a phrasing which, given the circumstances, she was inclined to take literally.

She looked to Koishi. "We should go see Flandre," she said. "I don't wanna keep her waiting too long." Marisa paused, and added, "and I bet nobody keeps her in the loop."

Koishi nodded, and Marisa paused. Her broom was _somewhere_ in the mess her bed had made – she was going to have to memorize where all the new parts of the mess were.

The satori giggled as Marisa found its handle sticking out of a pile of books.

"Alright," she said. "You ready?"

Koishi's giggles settled into a smile. "Yeah!"

Marisa swung open her door, stepped outside, slammed her door, and hopped on her broomstick in little more than one movement. It was a trick she inadvertently practiced a lot.

"Let's go, then!"

＊ ＊ ＊

It was strange, Koishi thought, how warm the mansion felt as they arrived.

Meiling – Koishi remembered the name! – greeted them at the gates of the mansion, relaxed as ever.

Sakuya, on the other hand, was different. The maid, always cold and blank to Koishi, once again felt like a person. Very little stood out, and no feeling or thought was quite strong enough to read, but anything that the satori might see at all was meaningful.

The maid knew that Koishi could see – she wouldn't forget that – and that meant she had allowed this.

Koishi wanted to thank her, but Sakuya's thoughts seemed to ask that she keep the matter silent, and the once blind satori had learned enough to respect that.

And Patchouli, too, and Remilia, after, felt softer and kinder. Today, there were many more feelings in the mansion than Koishi had expected, and she appreciated that.

They had all gathered before the basement. Patchouli was on edge, Sakuya simply a… person _,_ now, in the background. Remilia afraid, and yet holding onto no small amount of hope.

And Marisa, certain only of the way forward that she faced, and nothing more.

"She's awake, yeah?" Marisa looked at the door. She was anxious, but anxious and excited were never too far apart to the witch.

"She's been awake more often, recently," said Patchouli. "But quite patient."

"Who the hell taught her to be patient with _me_?" Asked Marisa, grinning. "Anyways, I'm ready."

Koishi felt Marisa glance at her before there was any movement. "Yes!"

Marisa nodded back, and opened the door.

The basement was as it had always been – it wasn't familiar to Koishi, but it was familiar to Marisa, and even more important, it was familiar to one Flandre Scarlet, in the way that only one's home could be.

Flandre looked up, and Koishi giggled. It was a wonderful rush of feelings, and beneath pain and fear, they were happy.

"You came back." She smiled.

Marisa grinned. "Of course I did." Her grin widened. "I don't give up on things!"

"Reimu came to play," said Flandre, now pacing about, looking around. "And really play! She didn't even want to stop when I was getting tired!"

Marisa balanced quite a few thoughts and feelings, now. Of concern, of faint surprise, of a knowing relief. "She did, eh? Well, she's certainly fun, when she wants to be."

 _Which is almost never, but it's always worth a shot_.

"I think sis is a little mad at her now, though." Flandre tilted her head.

"Oh?" Marisa was still smiling. "Why's that?"

The vampire giggled. "She used a bunch of bad words when she was done playing."

Koishi giggled, too – she could see one cursing Reimu Hakurei in Flandre's memories, letting loose an impressive litany under her breath. It was, from what Marisa always seemed to feel, an essential part of the shrine maiden.

Marisa, in turn, laughed out loud. "Yeah, that's Reimu, alright."

Koishi was still focused on Flandre. She'd talked of Reimu without apprehension, without concern. She'd been playing, despite the fear that she'd held before.

To her, Reimu Hakurei was simply invincible. She was within Gensokyo's nature, and if she came to play, then it was play time.

Marisa, as ubiquitous as she was, wasn't quite the same. Little fears danced in Flandre's heart, made themselves known in memories of nightmares and painful blurs of the past.

To Koishi, who remembered nothing of the years she had sealed herself away, those pains seemed far too familiar.

It was set in Flandre's mind to forge forward nonetheless. She was afraid, and Marisa wouldn't lie – both knew that it was dangerous, that there were untold risks to this hope.

Koishi's concerns were less than the young vampire's; her determination was not.

"Alright," said Marisa, stretching. "Well, are you awake now?"

Flandre almost jumped. "Yes!" Koishi could feel the excitement take over, now.

"Then how about we play?" Marisa grinned, and Flandre readied herself. Koishi waited, though, for Marisa.

And sure enough, Marisa wasn't quite finished. "One rule, though," she said. "Before we get going."

Flandre nodded. She was still excited.

"Pay attention," said Marisa. "Just try to keep an eye on how you're feeling. Koishi can help. And me…"

The witch grinned. "I can dodge. Let's go!"

Flandre almost hesitated… and dodged on an instant's notice as Marisa fired; with that, the dance began. Koishi stepped away – it was Marisa's turn, and Koishi needed to help Flandre.

She _could_ help, though _._ She could see the young vampire's heart, see the feelings within. Excitement and joy, and a surprise at acceptance that seemed like it would never fade.

And, beneath, Koishi could see the stirrings of instinct, the predator that chased its prey in circles, that waited for the smallest opening to strike.

Was that the life of a vampire, or was it something more? Was that Flandre, or a curse? Koishi had no answers for these questions – only a refusal to believe that they should define the child.

For now, she watched Flandre dance in joy and excitement, paying careful attention to every little instinct of aggression, every tiny movement that saw Marisa more as prey than partner.

Koishi held on to these things, noting every detail she could, doing her best to remember every difference in feeling and thought alike. She knew she would share them, knew that these feelings she watched so openly would be visible to all.

And as she held onto the ripples of a monster, she did her best to imagine otherwise. To think of the joy in Flandre as she played, to think of a world where the edge of excitement and inhuman reflex did not mark a grim release.

The monster in the dark could be understood, could be seen in its movements. Flandre could hold it back without assistance, when she was calm, when she was aware.

 _She just needs a better view,_ thought Marisa, narrowly dodging a volley of bullets. _Okay, distraction bad!_

Koishi giggled, and watched as the dance went on, growing faster and more erratic.

Flandre was ecstatic.

Flandre was afraid.

As danmaku flew across the basement, as the rhythm of dodging and weaving and returned fire grew more intense, Flandre could feel the movements of her instinct, the pieces of her that tracked Marisa's movement not like the rhythm of a game, but like the weakness of a prey.

She could feel them through Koishi where she had once ignored them, and it scared her more than anything else in the world.

But she tried, still. She was aware, and she could hold on.

Another expression of light flew past the vampire, and fear and intensity grew alike. Flandre hesitated.

The instinct to destroy was clear, if just for a moment. The desire to reach out and strike not to conclude the dance, but to crush a tiny life in one's hands.

And Marisa just grinned. She knew. She was not afraid.

" _Is that all you got?!_ " She shouted, pointing her Hakkero at the vampire.

Flandre stared as the spark ignited.

… And above all else, she wasn't done playing. Fear was pushed away in the face of one shouting Marisa Kirisame. Flandre grinned.

Koishi, over the spark's deafening hum, heard the jingling of Flandre's wings. The vampire was on the ceiling, now, and she was laughing as she fired back.

It was a child's laughter, here. The monster watched, but the child played, and her movements fit into the perfect rhythm of Gensokyo's old game.

Marisa laughed, too, and the dance went on.

＊ ＊ ＊

Flandre yawned, stretching her arms. "That was fun," she said. "It's a little harder…"

"Oh?" Marisa leaned back against a wall. As was typically the case after a couple rounds with Flandre, they were both tired.

"To be careful. I was scared," she added. "Before you fired the spark, I thought it was going to get dangerous."

"Did it?" Marisa smiled; in truth, she'd felt it a little, through Koishi – it'd been _why_ she'd decided on the loudest approach possible.

"Yeah. But it turned out okay!" Flandre smiled, and once again, her wings gave off a small cascade of chiming sounds, just a little bit later than they should have.

It was a fascinating little detail. Marisa could tell that the sound was a good sign – more than that was still a mystery.

…How mad would Remilia be if she found out about an experiment to learn more, anyway? Well, questions for later.

For now, Marisa watched as Flandre made her way over to Koishi, and proceeded to pull her into a tight hug.

Koishi giggled, returning the hug. "Good job," she said.

Flandre looked confused for only a moment before Koishi replied to an unspoken thought: "on holding it back!"

"Oh." Flandre yawned again. "You helped."

Koishi nodded. "I'll keep helping!"

Vibes of joy filled the air. As Koishi was now, Marisa couldn't tell whose they were. Still, she shared those same feelings, and Koishi's odd empathy only helped.

Flandre didn't reply. She was sleepy now, and Marisa knew that for her, sleepy and sleeping were rarely far apart.

Sakuya was there on cue, as she so often was. "I think the young mistress is about ready for bed," she said, with a cursory glance – Flandre had begun to wander off.

Koishi giggled.

Marisa nodded. "Night, Flan," she called.

Flandre took a moment to look up, and Marisa couldn't help but chuckle – a tired Flandre was, well, very obviously so.

"…Oh. G'night, Marisa…"

Sakuya waited a moment before speaking. "Whenever you're ready," she said.

"What, I don't get to loiter at all?" said Marisa, grinning.

The maid raised an eyebrow, and said nothing quite pointedly.

"Fine, fine…" Marisa stretched, and then followed Sakuya.

Remilia was waiting outside the basement, and Patchouli was behind her, looking a little tired.

"Well?" Remilia crossed her arms; she was doing her best to look more impatient than afraid.

Not that it could fool Marisa, at this point – it never had, really. If such an expectant, irritable act had ever been what the Scarlet Devil truly felt, then Marisa would've had far more trouble in her visits Flandre than she had.

Instead, beneath a forced veneer irritation and impatience, Marisa had always been met with what seemed to be almost a silent gratitude. She'd been tolerated more than opposed, and beyond a particular care for one Flandre Scarlet, the witch couldn't see much reason for it.

"All's well," said Marisa, giving a grin and a thumbs-up. "Nobody's hurt."

"And?" Remilia didn't move.

"She saw," said Koishi, cutting in. "She saw the monster."

Remilia paused. Patchouli raised an eyebrow.

"The one that looks at Marisa like she's prey," she went on. "The one that's waiting for just a moment to—" The satori cut herself off a moment just before Remilia raised a hand.

"And she was alright?" The Scarlet Devil's façade was thinner than it had ever been.

Even if Marisa hadn't already known better than to believe Remilia's mask, Koishi's expression would've given it away. No matter how still the vampire kept her expressions, how carefully even she kept her movements, it was clear that she was quite concerned.

"She was," said Marisa, letting her trademark grin fall away. Her smile now was genuine, and unlike the usual Marisa that she carried about her. "She saw it, she kept control, she didn't panic. I threw a laser at her to help, even," she added.

There was a long silence. Weakness in front of Marisa was, clearly, just a little more than Remilia would tolerate.

"And what now?" Patchouli cut in.

"For now? More of the same," answered Marisa. "One time's not exactly the sample size you want, given how bad a screw-up could be."

Patchouli nodded, and gave Remilia a brief glance before looking back to the witch. "Is there anything else?"

Marisa looked at Koishi, who was radiating her own, quiet joy. "Yeah. Koishi's not there to change her feelings – it's more about showing her _all_ the feelings that come up. Flan's dangerous when she gets carried away, but if she can keep an eye on what she's doing even when she's having fun…" Marisa shrugged, and fell back on her usual grin. "Then she can play."

Patchouli nodded again. "I suppose I'll have plenty of time to ask you about the more comprehensive details, then. Remi?"

This, for the moment, seemed enough for the Scarlet Devil, and her thin veneer of control settled back into its usual, smug form. "Very well. I expect we'll be seeing you again soon, then." She waved a hand. "I'll have Sakuya find you if Flandre grows bored, so don't keep us waiting."

Marisa laughed. "And when do _I_ ever slow down?"

"You'd best not start, then." Remilia smirked, although her relief was still a little more visible than Marisa was used to. "Sakuya?"

"Yes, my lady," the Maid responded, visible on demand as always. "Right this way."

Marisa sighed, and Koishi giggled. Keeping the mansion in one piece with visits like this was simply doomed to failure.

Whether it was doomed by the nature of Marisa's visits, or simply by her force of will – well, that was a question that time would answer well enough.

＊ ＊ ＊

"You don't think it'll ever go away."

Koishi had settled gently on Marisa. She was sleepy, but found herself just a little bit short of drifting off.

Marisa was a little more awake, as she often was, and she was thinking of a lot more things; it was Koishi's favourite background noise. "I dunno if it's some kind of vampire's instinct, or if it's just the way she was born," she replied, with images of Flandre Scarlet happening across her mind. "But I don't think we're just going to make it go away, yeah."

Koishi nodded. Or, at least, she thought she'd nodded, and that meant Marisa would know either way.

"You're worried." Koishi could feel it, although it was a little hard to tell – she was worried too, after all.

 _I don't know if something like that's ever going to be completely safe,_ thought the witch.

"You're still going to try."

Koishi didn't need to see Marisa's smile to feel it. "She's a kid, y'know? She oughta be free, here of all places. Even Reimu knows it."

 _So of course I'm still gonna try. I've wanted to help since I met her, and now I've got you._

"'Sides," mumbled Marisa. She was getting sleepier. "I _like_ danger, y'know?"

Koishi curled up. She was starting to drift off, and that made it a little hard to pick words and thoughts apart.

She felt Marisa smile again, and felt soft thoughts from her.

 _Goodnight, you._

Koishi stirred a little and mumbled something back, although she wasn't quite sure what. Dreams had started to blend with the waking world.

Whatever it was, Marisa adored it.

 _I love you too._

Oh.

Koishi smiled, and let those warm feelings carry her away. That much, she could tell was real, no matter which way her world began to drift.


	29. Chapter 29 - Once Burned, Twice Moved

This was the first bad day.

Koishi Komeiji wasn't entirely sure what that meant. What _was_ a bad day? People had them sometimes, when they were grumpy, or more mean than usual, or just sad or afraid. People were different on bad days. People didn't do as many things on bad days.

Koishi wasn't mean, and she wasn't grumpy. She was Koishi, and she wasn't doing anything that she wouldn't usually do. She wasn't different. She wasn't afraid. She didn't really know what sad felt like.

But she was having a bad day. She was pretty certain about that.

She walked from stone to stone, from patch of dirt to patch of dirt, hopping as she did. As she always did.

Still, she couldn't quite get past the thought that she was having a bad day.

Koishi started to go over all the attributes of somebody having a bad day. Was she afraid? No. Was she sad? She didn't know, but she never really was, was she?

Wait, what was being afraid like? How did she know that she wasn't afraid if she'd never been afraid?

Koishi Komeiji had definitely been afraid—

She let that thought fall away.

She wasn't doing anything unusual, was she? She was hopping the same way she always had. She was walking off the beaten path the same way she always did. She wasn't doing anything less than usual.

Was she being mean? No, she couldn't be. She wasn't angry. She'd never been angry. Was she different?

There wasn't any particular thought that could fall away.

Maybe she was different. But how?

Well, she wasn't sure if she was sad, right? What exactly _was_ sad?

Koishi had felt a little empty for a pretty long time. Was that sadness? When people were sad, they didn't always feel more empty. Sometimes they did. But it was part of a bad day – people who were sad did less.

She was running out of thoughts to let fall away, wasn't she?

Maybe she was empty after all.

Koishi Komeiji decided to go home. The world above didn't feel kind, right now. Not much did, but her sister would always welcome her.

Koishi had a bad feeling about things. What things, she didn't know, but it was hard. The terrified thoughts of those she passed leaked out more strongly. The grey skies above seemed all the more threatening. The rain seemed unpleasant.

Koishi had definitely… been… afraid. Hadn't she?

Koishi let the world fade a little. She was going home, for now. She couldn't give up yet – what did she even have to give up on?

…

Koishi Komeiji was having a bad day. This was the first bad day, and she knew why. She was sad, she was afraid, and she was letting those thoughts fall away.

＊ ＊ ＊

Koishi rolled over in bed. She didn't want to bother anyone, but…

She felt alone.

She knew that Marisa was right there. Marisa Kirisame, ordinary magician, and her love. She had hardly dreamt of anything, and she hadn't woken with a start.

Still, Koishi was afraid. She was much, much more scared than she thought she would be. The past was a blur, and its most painful parts had made quite the mess of her when she'd opened her eye again.

She had come to face many feelings since then. The trauma of what would come next in dream, on the other hand, seemed as if it had only been sealed away. She'd been running by accident, thinking she was facing it the whole time, hadn't she?

Koishi curled up. She realized she was shaking. She knew what came next. She knew what she was afraid of, and she knew why she was having a bad day. Where she'd blocked out the hateful thoughts of those she passed, where she had ignored the fear that turned to anger, she did not now. She couldn't now – she knew better.

She knew what had happened.

 _She deserved this._

No. That was a voice that was long gone, a voice she'd had to forget about.

A voice she remembered now.

And then, Koishi jumped as an arm wrapped around her.

 _Don't be stupid, you,_ came one witch's warm voice. "S'okay to be scared. I know how bad it can get."

Koishi let herself uncurl a little in order to cling to her love. "I'm sorry," she said.

 _Don't be,_ came Marisa's thoughts. Koishi felt contact on her back – motion and closeness. Marisa Kirisame was warm. She was comforting.

It was getting a little… easier to breathe? It had been getting hard to breathe. Koishi hadn't realized. Koishi was still shaking.

"Remember how I found you, when you opened you eye?"

"You were thinking comforting things." Koishi paused. "You were crying."

"Yeah," said Marisa. " _I_ was crying. Didn't know a thing about why, but that's how much I felt just being near you. Couldn't help it, and I don't cry much."

Koishi hugged Marisa tighter. "I'm scared," she said.

"You're brave," said Marisa. "I know you're not running on purpose. Just like I wasn't."

Koishi felt the gentle contact and release of a kiss on her cheek. It was a helpful feeling – it didn't exist in the past. It was a moment of _now_ , and _now_ was a loving moment.

"I'll be okay," said Koishi.

Marisa nodded, and Koishi felt the witch's smile. _I'm here._

"I'm tired…"

"It's still night, yeah," said Marisa. _Back to sleep?_

"Yeah…" Koishi curled up against the witch. "I love you," she murmured, closing her eyes.

"I love you too," said Marisa, still holding onto Koishi. _And sweet dreams, you._

Koishi smiled, and let the past become the past again.

＊ ＊ ＊

Marisa's first waking thoughts were of Koishi, and as such, they were thoughts of concern.

Last night's fright had been somewhat of a blur, mostly because nothing had been strong enough to startle Marisa awake. Still, the satori's fear wasn't something that she could sleep through, and so she'd found herself awake, even if nothing had really woken her.

"Morning…" said Koishi, rolling over onto Marisa.

Whatever had been scaring her in the night, it was gone now; it was gone and Koishi was, well, adorable. Clearly, waking up in the night had taken some toll on her – she was still visibly sleepy. Her hair was a little bit of a mess, finding its way into bangs and lone strands.

She was pretty, although Marisa was keenly aware that such qualities were a subjective matter… and that she was altogether quite biased.

That didn't matter, though. Her subjective bias was, clearly, of the objectively superior variety.

Koishi rubbed her eyes, and smiled at Marisa, who, in turn, smiled back. Right now, there were two people in the house: Koishi Komeiji and Marisa Kirisame. Anyone else was irrelevant to the moments that they shared, and as such, her subjective opinion really _was_ fact.

Koishi giggled, and… blushed a little? Huh. "Thank you," she said.

"Anytime," said Marisa, smiling. On idle impulse, she pulled Koishi into a hug. "You alright?"

Koishi nodded. "I was scared last night," she said. "But I'm okay now. You helped a lot."

"I'm glad I _can_ help," said Marisa, releasing Koishi. "What happened? I don't remember nearly as much."

Koishi frowned, and Marisa felt some stirrings of unease in the air. "It was a memory from before I got attacked," she said.

Marisa could read Koishi's scars in an instant. The satori, while she didn't hesitate, radiated fear and a skipped heartbeat as she spoke the last word.

"Nothing happened that day, right?"

Without word or glance, Koishi took one of Marisa's hands. "No. But I felt bad," she said. "I was afraid. I was sad. I didn't know it but…" She shook her head. "I couldn't hide it, that day, and I always did before."

"So it was a pretty painful day for you, even if nothing happened." Marisa watched her own feelings with care as she spoke.

"Yes," said Koishi. "And no, too." She kicked at the ground idly, frowning. "It was the first day I let nothing happen. I just went home."

Marisa nodded. "Because you were scared."

Koishi nodded back. "Yeah."

They were silent for a little before Koishi pulled Marisa into another hug. "I'll be alright," she said, and it wasn't a lie; just over the course of the conversation, she had already started to feel less afraid.

Marisa thought for a little. "Take it easy with Flandre tonight?"

Koishi nodded. "Still a little scared."

"She'll understand," said Marisa. "It's not so late yet, though," she added. "What do you wanna do until then?"

And then, Marisa felt something click in Koishi. Waves of excitement made themselves known, and the satori jumped into the air, floating quite strangely as she so often did. "It's the concert today!"

"Eh?" Oh. "The Prismrivers?"

"Yeah!" Koishi was smiling as she drifted about in the air. Marisa couldn't help but appreciate how beautiful a sight it was, given Koishi's tendency to share her joys.

"Sounds like a plan to me!" Marisa grinned. "I'll even not crash it, just for you."

Koishi giggled. "Okay! It's pretty soon," she added.

"Alrighty. Lemme get ready, then." If you were gonna be somewhere at all, there wasn't too much harm in being early. Unless there was, in which case Marisa had _better_ be there early before somebody else stole her job.

Koishi giggled again, and then landed weightlessly on Marisa's shoulders.

"Alright," said Marisa, grinning. "Let's go!"

＊ ＊ ＊

This concert was, moreso than most, for the inhuman; Youkai and fairies – even if most of them would tend not to remember the concert itself.

Marisa knew this not because of who had shown up, but because this particular concert was hosted in the skies. No flying, no attendance.

It didn't matter, really. Marisa was comfortable in roughly any company, and Koishi was comfortable if Marisa was there – or, at least, that's what she was feeling from the satori, now.

It was a nice thought to have.

The two were the first to arrive; once again not so surprising, considering the audience. The fairies, Marisa assumed, probably wouldn't know the concert existed until it was happening.

The Prismrivers, on the other hand, were already there, and Koishi was overjoyed.

Lyrica waved, and Koishi waved back. "I remembered!" said Koishi, looking between the ghosts and Marisa.

Ah, yes. Remembering things was still a point of focus and pride, for Koishi. She'd spend a long time sealing her mind away, and choosing to remember still carried weight.

Marisa smiled. It was a good choice, either way, and it was a choice that brought a lot of joy, the way Koishi wore it.

"You sure did," said Marisa. Koishi, on the other hand, had already flown off to greet the prismrivers.

As tempting as it was to make trouble, it was just a little more tempting to watch Koishi be herself for a bit.

She was already looking at the Prismriver's instruments, and unconsciously mimicking the movements of a trained performer. This time, she was confusing and impressing the older sisters, as well.

"I told you," said Lyrica, looking smug in a way that Marisa suspected was exclusive to youngest siblings. "She doesn't know how to play, but she can play like you can. Or like I can!"

Koishi was happy. Lyrica, clearly enough, had taken a shine to her ever since she'd played the sisters' song.

"I wonder if she can remember those instincts," said Merlin, grinning. "Maybe we could get a new pianist."

Koishi giggled. She could tell it wasn't serious, third eye and all. "I don't think so. But she knows a lot of parts, so we could play a duet!"

Lyrica froze. Marisa couldn't help but laugh. Lunasa smiled. "She's a satori, Lyrica."

"S-so?" The pianist made her best attempt to recover. It wasn't much of an attempt.

"She can read your mind," said Lunasa. "The duet was your idea, I take it?"

Koishi cut in, giggling. "It works on ghosts! They call my sister 'The Girl Even the Spirits Fear'." She frowned. "I don't know why, though. She's really nice!" And then, she paused, and Marisa felt a tinge of fear. "Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't—I didn't mean to read your mind. It's… hard to tell feelings and thoughts apart, still. Mine and everyone else's."

"It's alright," said Lunasa, glancing at Lyrica with a chuckle. "Nobody's worried – she's just embarrassed about what you read, is all." She paused. "She'd never get much chance to play piano with anyone else, anyway – either they can't touch our instruments or they just aren't that good at them."

"And I'm just her!" Koishi's smile was back in an instant.

"As far as the keyboard's concerned, yeah," Merlin chimed in. "It wouldn't let you play otherwise. Maybe we should have you along sometime," she added. "Lyrica'd—"

"That's _getting old—_ "

"Be thrilled, I bet."

Koishi giggled. "You like making fun of each other, don't you?"

" _They_ do," said Lyrica, displaying some obvious annoyance.

Marisa grinned. "So as long as those instruments think I'm the right one of you, then they won't disappear when I try to steal them?"

She could feel the sudden unease of the sisters through Koishi, who seemed torn between worrying… and laughing hysterically. She seemed to settle somewhere inbetween, and giggled. "Can you wait until after the concert?" she said, looking the witch in the eye with a wide smile.

"…Y'know, this is gonna be a disaster for my rep," said Marisa, rolling her eyes. It was, of course, all in good humour – she had her priorities quite clearly arranged. "But fine, fine, it can wait."

Koishi leaped into the air, ignoring the fact she was in the air. "Thank you!" she said, and then quickly darted over to kiss Marisa on the cheek.

Marisa, on the other hand, had been around Koishi long enough not to miss a beat. She grinned, and smiled back. "Love ya too," she said, enjoying the Prismrivers' collective expression – which fell decisively somewhere between shocked and horrified.

Koishi giggled, and then once again sprang into motion. "Okay!" She floated over to the prismrivers, and looked between them, giggling. Marisa had taught her well enough that, at the very least, she found this amusing.

"Can I try the violin this time?" she asked. It was a small wonder, thought Marisa, that she had learned this quickly to be willing and carefree about such things.

＊ ＊ ＊

Koishi could feel herself tiring out.

She didn't mind; she knew why, and it was absolutely worth it. It was her choice, to be overwhelmed and fatigued by everything around her, to listen on nearly every level that she could.

Pieces of the past swirled around her, and they made each moment so much more painful, so much more exhausting to listen and experience. They did not stop Koishi Komeiji, who knew that those barbs of outsiders' fear and fragments of emotion were, to her, relics of the past.

And so, she listened. As the concert went on, fairies and youkai were drawn into the air, and Koishi could hear everything a hundredfold. She could feel the instincts of the prismrivers as they played their songs, their identities woven into movement – which, in turn, became sound. And she could hear the song countless times again, as it echoed through the minds and feelings of the audience.

It was different, she thought, than most music. With their natures, the prismrivers act made a rhythm of their identity, and it was an identity that others could understand a piece of without being so forced to live it themselves.

It was exhausting. It was loud – Koishi could hear the feelings and thoughts of the audience around her, their enjoyment and response and movements to the rhythm, and it was loud and overwhelming.

But where the audience was lost in the rhythm, and the spirits became song, one person was still there.

 _We can back off any time you like, y'know._

Koishi simply turned to the witch, and… smiled. She was happy. She was tired, already, but she was happy. She didn't need to stop.

And so, she closed every eye but the one she always had, and listened, and felt. This audience, short of memory or care, understood what was important to the Prismrivers in the way that was most important – through the song that they lived.

It was a good time. Marisa could feel the rhythm, and she could feel Koishi.

In fatigue and joy, the evening rushed past her.

It was, as far as she could tell, a good time.

＊ ＊ ＊

"You're sure you'll be okay?" said Marisa.

Koishi nodded. "I can be there."

Koishi was tired. That much, Marisa could feel. And yet still, she was energetic, if a little more prone to giggling and losing focus.

"Alright." Marisa grinned. "I'm gonna take a few games. Normal people games. I'm sure I stole most of 'em from the mansion, anyways."

She inspected a piece or two from a chess set. Intricate, finely carved, heavier than at all practical… probably worth a fortune somewhere, and honestly quite impractical for actually playing the game.

Koishi giggled as Marisa continued to appraise it. Yeah, it was definitely a mansion steal.

The witch pondered a moment longer before deciding that it was an acceptable game to bring – if the end result was its 'accidental' return, then she'd just steal it back later.

She threw it into a sack with a few more various games and sets than should have fit. Only one good way to test a spell.

Koishi giggled. Marisa grinned. Spatial manipulation was hard, let alone just leaving it in a bag for casual use. Worst case scenario, the mansion was in for some fun.

"Alright!" She said. "Let's go have some fun."

＊ ＊ ＊

"I know it's not as fun," said Marisa. "But I think Koishi's real tired right now, and we've still got a bit to sort out before we play for real again."

Flandre met the witch's gaze. It wasn't the nicest news, but… it didn't feel that annoying, to be honest. She wasn't lying, she told the truth upfront, and she'd still brought other things to have some fun with.

Besides, she'd had a feeling they wouldn't be playing rough today. She wasn't sure _why_ she had a feeling, but with the friendly satori, Flandre found that she had feelings about things, and those feelings were right.

She watched as Marisa fiddled with a small bag… and then found herself a mixture of surprised and delighted as the bag spit out a number of various boards and sets of pieces at high velocity, far beyond what could fit… and took Marisa flying across the room in the opposite direction.

Koishi was laughing. Flandre couldn't help but join in.

Marisa was quick enough to get back on her feet, grinning. "Better than expected!" she called out, brushing herself off. "Didn't blow up 'til it was exposed to standard space. Well, sorta. It's too big in here, anyway." She looked around at the various scattered pieces over the floor. "Bag's even intact. Anyways," she went on, "anything you want to play?"

Flandre paused, and picked up a rolling piece. She recognized it… oh. "That's my sister's."

Marisa grinned. "I thought so! I didn't know where I stole this ol' thing from. Who'd have a chess set in Gensokyo anyways? Do you know how to play?"

Flandre stared at it. "A little," she said. "Sis stopped playing with me 'cause I broke the last one."

Pause. "And the other five."

Marisa laughed. "How'd you do that?"

"I got sad when I lost the first time," Flandre replied. This was a little embarrassing, but that seemed okay with Marisa and her new friend – Koishi! She was supposed to remember names, her sister always said.

"And the second time. Then the third time, I thought capturing the piece was really fun, so I moved my queen like this!" She tapped the floor in the same way she remembered moving her piece, and frowned. She'd cracked the floor again.

"The fourth time, I tried to get the board, and it broke in two." She'd really been trying that time! It wasn't her fault the board got stuck!

And then… "I don't really remember the last time." She trusted her sister, even if she could be stuck up and act like she knew things she didn't.

Marisa was still smiling as she started to gather up the pieces. Flandre let her mind wander. "What do you have to…" she tried to remember, and found the words, although it was difficult. "Sort… out?"

At that, Marisa stopped smiling, and looked right at Flandre. She wondered if she'd made a big mistake again. It didn't feel like it, with Marisa.

"It's not a mistake," said the satori, smiling. Right! She knew what Flandre was thinking. It was… kind of nice, the way she did it. "Marisa just wants to be serious with you about it – she wants to make sure she always tells you the truth."

That was scary. That was really scary, for some reason.

Flandre liked it, still. She knew she was a child – or at least, she believed that there was a reason people treated her like one. She knew she was dangerous, even if everyone tried to hide it. She knew that her sister _was_ trying to hide it. And… she hated it, even if she knew it was something about love.

And then, Marisa spoke. "I'm not gonna sugarcoat it, 'cause you know it, and I know you know it: your powers are dangerous, and it's hard for you to control them all the time."

It hurt to hear it, but Flandre was glad anyway. Marisa was still looking right at her. "And that's alright with us. I think you can learn to control it. I think it's worth trying, even if it dangerous. We want to try, and we want to be here."

Flandre nodded.

Marisa went on. "So the one thing left is… Koishi's been hurt before," she said. "Physically, and it was really, really scary for her when it happened."

A small note of fear and pain seemed to come from the satori. It was enough for Flandre to know the feeling. It reminded her of the first time she'd woken up standing, surrounded by death and countless broken pieces. She didn't know if anyone – the ones she loved – was alive.

They'd survived, luckily, but the fear hadn't left her.

It felt just a little bit like that, and Flandre knew how serious that meant it was. She nodded. "That's okay," she said. "I know I like to play, but…"

It was a little sad, but she said it out loud. "It's been hundreds of years like this. I can wait."

Marisa smiled. "See? You're not such a kid."

Flandre blinked. "…I'm not?"

"Well, you can be. But you notice a lot of things, even if nobody sees it." She smiled. "But yeah, that's it. We might get hurt – I'm not going to pretend it's all one hundred percent safe. I can ward her up, I've got some nice spells, but you're real strong.

"So… if something goes wrong, I don't want everyone to be scared and afraid and crying. If something happens, we were ready for it, and we chose it."

Flandre was more scared than she had been in more than four hundred years… and above even that, she wanted this more than she had wanted anything in her entire life.

Well… alright. She looked at Marisa for a moment, and then… moved onto the next thought. "So… are we going to play?"

Marisa blinked, and then laughed. "Yeah! I'm gonna set Koishi up against you, if that's alright. I know how to play pretty well, and I don't wanna hold back on purpose 'til you're a bit used to that."

…Could Marisa read Koishi's mind? Flandre was just starting to think how annoying it was when her sister did that.

"Not quite," said Marisa. "But I've gotten pretty used to her, y'know?"

Koishi giggled. Flandre smiled, and looked at the assembled board.

"Do you remember how to play?" asked Marisa.

She did, although she wasn't completely sure. "I think so."

Marisa nodded. "Alright! I'll make sure nothing goes wrong, then. No playing using my mind, alright, Koishi?"

The satori giggled again, and then turned her smile towards Flandre. She was… "soft" was the first word that came to mind. She was definitely a nice person, but she really _felt_ like a nice person.

"Okay!" Koishi paused. "White or black?"

Flandre paused, and took a moment to think. "I want to go first," she said.

"That's white," said Marisa.

"Alright," said Flandre, looking at the pieces the witch had set up. She didn't remember much about how to play, so… she picked one of the pieces on the front row at random. They always had to move first, she remembered. It's how everything else moved… except the horses?

She'd figure it out. She took a pawn and moved it two forward, carefully as she could.

＊ ＊ ＊

" _That's_ where it went?"

Remilia Scarlet crossed her arms. Marisa was trying very hard to grin instead of breaking out into hysterical laughter. "It's in one piece, too!"

"You stole a chess set from my quarters," the vampire said again, clearly having a little trouble. "Do you even know how to play?"

"Of course!" Marisa let a small giggle through. "I'll play you sometime, if you want!"

"I'll have to pass," Remilia said. It was, ironically, quite genuinely impressive how long she could hold a completely unimpressed expression. "Playing games of fate with you is a headache more often than not."

The witch shrugged. "Well, suit yourself! Either way, you're part of a real exclusive club now… that is, I actually returned something."

"There was no guarantee it would survive!"

"Maybe you should get Patchy to put some wards on it. Does wonders for her book, even when they explode."

The aforementioned magician, watching quietly, let out a long sigh. Marisa laughed a little harder this time. Koishi giggled.

After a long pause, Remilia went on. "Well, I suppose the end result is satisfactory, even if the means stem from your reprehensible standards." She waved a hand. "Now, I have matters to attend to. Sakuya!"

Sakuya Izayoi was there an instant before her master called.

"See our guests out, please."

"As you wish, milady."

＊ ＊ ＊

Koishi laid in bed.

Well, on top of Marisa, who was in a bed. That counted, as far as she knew.

"I'm scared."

Marisa shifted a little. She was sleepy, but she was there – just underneath Koishi. "What's wrong?"

"The past," said Koishi.

She could feel the witch's worry… and then, the witch's reassurance, before it was put to words. "It's the scariest part of your life, isn't it?"

Koishi nodded, and curled into Marisa, hugging her tightly.

"You can wake up if it gets too scary," said Marisa. "We don't have to figure it out all at once."

"I know, but…" She wanted to solve it all at once. She wanted to face it just like she'd opened her eye, and she wanted it to start getting better.

She was scared, too, that the fear she felt now meant she hadn't really escaped her past. It still felt too recent, too _close_.

But Marisa was surrounding her, and she was kind and soft and comforting. _I'm here, alright? No matter how many times we have to try, it's going to be okay._

"What if I haven't gotten better?" Koishi was trying not to cry. It was difficult.

"You started getting better the moment you opened your eye," said Marisa, still holding the satori. "Just because something's still hard doesn't mean you've lost that."

 _It's still the hardest thing you've ever been through._

"You're not running anymore, and that's why I'm here."

That was why she was here, too. That was why she was slowly falling asleep, surrounded by love.

That was why every corner of her life that she turned was exciting, and why she smiled. That was why the world had begun to once again show her such kindness – after all, it could show her nothing if she would not see.

...Her fear began to fade, piece by piece, although it would not be erased. The life she lived now could not simply be taken away in an instant, no matter how much that instant hurt. What had happened in all these last days was just as real as the pain that her past had left her.

No matter how powerful her fear was, this was a life she would never trade to escape it. It was real, and it was here. She had gotten better, no matter what her old feelings told her; her life had changed around her, and that was evidence enough.

Koishi Komeiji was still afraid, but she was tired, too. It had been a long day, and it had been a kind one.

Marisa was here, now, and to the tired satori, that was enough to sleep.


	30. Author's Notes

Heya! I'm dekw (Daniel's the real name), the crazy writing this story.

It took me a bit to get this all uploaded (it came from google docs, and honestly this site's RTF formatting can just go die in a fire), but here's everything I have so far. I'm writing - I'm on and off, and kinda slow, but so far this isn't a dead story. If it is, I'll come back here and edit these to let you know! Anyways, without further ado!

NOTE: I'm not an incredibly fast writer! I just uploaded 15 chapters at once at the start of this fic, because I'd been writing it for myself on google docs for a while. That's all!

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 **CONTACT:** My email is danielekwest at gmail dot com, and I check pretty obsessively, if I don't respond to anything here. Any questions or comments are welcome. If you find typos or any other mistakes, then feel free to let me know! If you just find my writing style confusing, that might be something you have to live with - sometimes I mess up, but sometimes it's just a bit complicated and I'm adamant about it staying. Still, I'm more than happy to try and explain anything I'm asked about.

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 **GRAMMAR WARNINGS AND REMINDERS:** Being Canadian on the internet with a lot of Americans, I might have some inconsistencies (e.g color vs colour), so try not to pay those too much heed.

If a paragraph/text block starts with a quote and the paragraph ends with no quote, then it's the same character speaking on the next line. That comes up remarkably often, and I remember being 15 years old and thinking it was just a typo, missing a quote at the end.

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 **FORMATTING:** Triple asterisks were being recognized as HTML something-or-other, so I've replaced them with a special unicode version (Full width asterisk or something), which the editor won't parse.

In order to preserve blank lines (such as in these author's notes), I have used the unicode character HANGUL CHOSEONG FILLER (U+115F, for anyone who wants to use it). This doesn't count as a space character, so the formatter won't remove the extra line, as it's seen as having characters on it.

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 **PERSONAL/WRITING:** I have a lot of gripes with how a lot of shipping fic is done, whether in the length being too short, TRUE LOVE CONQUERS ALL being a cliche I hate, or other friends and important characters just disappearing - I'm pretty picky. I wrote this fic to see how I, with all my many picky annoying particularities (I don't think it's good or bad, it's all preference), would wind up writing a shipfic. 60000 words later, I'm not done something I thought would be a cutesy 20000 or so words, but here we are!

Something that seems like it's a bit unusual among writers is that I have very little 'control' over my characters. I have a subconscious (ha ha the irony, yes I know) sense of how things are going, and I kind of just envision each scene and the interactions in my conscious. Sometimes things I don't at all predict just happen, or characters just go ahead without me, and I can't really change or not write that without the story feeling incredibly dull or... unalive? to me. So very often, I can answer questions about characters as I would about a close friend, but I can't tell entirely what's up until things happens, or predict what's going to happen. As this story's mainly fluff, I don't have too many plans in particular. But Yuyuko, for example, if you were to ask me what she was thinking during [minor spoilers], I'd honestly be unable to tell you, despite that I wrote it.

 **OTHER:** Reviews are always welcome, short or long, critical or praising. By no means do I claim to be a skilled writer; I kinda just slam words together in a way that works for me, and I know my style can be rambling and hard to keep track of for people.

If you want to suggest anything for verbal flow or fixing sentences, try to find examples! I have a hard time just taking general concepts, because there are a lot of phrases and such that need to be a certain way, for me. I welcome suggestions, but I'm often limited in the ones I can use - for example, all plot-related suggestions are basically wasted on me, because my control over my own story's events is very heavily subconscious. Often, I have no anticipation for characters' actions at all, I'm sort of just guessing based on what I know of them.

 **Misc Chapter Notes  
** (Kept from 18 onward, so far)

\- **Chapter 18  
** \- This was a really really long chapter, because like none of it was planned, so it just kinda all added together. I didn't know Koishi would drag Marisa along for reminiscing with Alice part two, and I sure as heck didn't anticipate what'd happen once Koishi and Marisa were back home. Almost all of it just... well, fell into place mentally, so I worry a lot that the narrative flow on that chapter may have gone in the trashcan as a cost of my frantic writing to keep up.

\- Koishi forcing me to change how the PoV worked for a bit was... quite an exercise. I apologize for any parts of the chapter here that just totally fall flat in pacing and the like.

\- **Chapter 19**  
\- I had to do a lot of editing/reading/re-writing, and I'm at that point where I've read my own stuff enough that I'm convinced it's total trash and can't keep at it, so apologies for that and delays in getting it out. I love writing this, but man, I don't like reading my own stuff.

\- I knew that Marisa going back to find Mima would happen sooner or later, but not this much sooner. I don't know why I was surprised - of COURSE Marisa would find a way and an excuse to just rush headfirst into what little passes for a plot in this fic. Looks like it's just plain set for next chapter.

\- Koishi's PoV is weird to write without Marisa, since then the flow of her view depends a lot on what she's reading. I had trouble writing the pace of this one, because Reimu... doesn't think about things all that much. She's pretty practical, doesn't care all that much - Koishi watches for a lot of things, and Marisa's always overthinking, so there was just so much less filler in terms of thought between dialogue.

\- **Chapter 20  
** \- And here, I break the big six-digits! This is now... uhhh... it's got words. I don't know. I don't know of any significance to it, but I did break that 100 000 word mark!

\- This feels like the most off-the-rails chapter so far, for whatever that means to me. There's also a lot of non scene cut point of view transitions, so the pacing feels a little weird. My pacing always feels a little off to me, though. Or more than a little off.

\- Patchouli kinda showed up on her own. Reimu and Alice I knew would be there, but not her as much. I don't know how she _knew_ , so I hope my subconscious at least has an explainable reason for it somewhere.

\- I didn't really know anything about how the confrontation with Mima was going to go. The spell Marisa casts is probably the farthest thing from canon/weirdest in-this-story action, but it kinda just... well, I predicted/controlled very little this chapter.

\- Koishi's definitely gonna be pretty worried about that whole collapsing thing. Marisa's definitely blown herself up in a few bad ways before, but Koishi hasn't been around for it.

\- I hope I didn't disappoint anyone hoping for reoccurring Mima...

- **Chapter 21  
** \- A shorter chapter, recovery as it is.

\- Next chapter will be where anything relevant happens

\- Feels like one of my weaker chapters (then again, everything I write feels like bad writing to me...)

\- Reimu's reaction was, like many things, not entirely expected on my part. This is playing with canon outside of spell card rules - which are almost ubiquitous - where that seems a lot more serious. In one of the supplemental things (was it part of forbidden scrollery? I forget) Reimu pretty much just strikes down somebody who became a Youkai, despite him mostly trying to be innocuous about it. And it's no spell cards, no humor, just smacked down with the gohei and gone. So I guess this is sort of extrapolating from that?

\- If I hadn't said it before: I hate this depression thing an it sucks. Did I say feels like one of my weaker chapters? What I MEANT was I had to get a friend to read it so that I had at least ONE second opinion that it wasn't as bad as I felt about it for no apparent reason and it wouldn't ruin my entire story.

\- I'M NOT SO GOOD AT THIS.

 **\- Chapter 22  
** \- A more relaxed chapter, just kinda recovery.

\- That whole mortality thing is a little more looming than I meant it to be, but such is the way characters are. Marisa, as ever, thinks about things a lot.

\- It was a quiet fun kinda chapter, because when characters are just talking, I don't really have too much conscious control. They tend to kinda do and say whatever they want - even if that's just my subconscious.

\- What's next? It seems like most of the currently open threads have been addressed or resolved. We'll find out next chapter!

 **\- Chapter 23  
** \- This one is a highly intuitive chapter. That means I have very little idea of what happened here, and am mostly guessing and estimating. In some sense, I'm just as left in the dark as all my readers! :'D

\- Sorry for the wait; new job's been busy and I had a friend over from Mexico for a week!

\- It's interesting watching how Koishi interacts with just about everyone, to me - it lets me learn a lot about my own characters, somehow. Well, not MY characters as in I own them or anything, but you know what I mean.

 **\- Chapter 24  
** \- Well, that's a thing that happened. I knew Marisa was gonna go play with Flandre at some point in the story as soon as she first visited the SDM. As usual, I wasn't very sure how it would go, or exactly how I write Flandre until it happened.

\- I've started to feel a little less stupid about how little conscious control I have! It's something I quite enjoy, as much as I complain.

\- I don't interpret Flandre's ability to destroy as metaphorical/destroy literally anything, even symbolic things, since canonically it has a clear interpretation (destroy the eye of something and the whole thing goes boom, is all). I am taking artistic liberty with her being dangerous, since there's nothing too much in canon for that.

\- Koishi's still got her touch for spellcards! She's not too aware, since it's sort of a subconscious expression of self.

\- The scene in the opening of this chapter was... odd, but I really liked it. It's probably more shades of a story I may write in the future, when this one finally comes to an end (see: precipice, and that one thing Yukari still has to do.)

 **\- Chapter 25  
** \- It was kinda neat finding out more about how the mansion works.

\- Flandre's a kid, but a responsible kid on the whole, and that's something that really resonates with Koishi, I think.

\- The whole accident scenario is a very real risk that I kinda thought of about when the story did. Now I'm sort of worried.

\- Working around Reimu's going to be... I don't know how it'll go!

 **\- Chapter 26  
** \- Not going to lie, I was pretty hesitant to upload this one. As far as "reality ensues", this is about as harsh as it gets.

\- I was at least somewhat aware this might happen, but... well, it was not a particularly fun chapter to write. When did I get all attached?

\- Oddly, the opening of the chapter really gets to me too. This entire chapter was just a whole load of not fun.

\- Hope and uncertainty remain. Where it goes... well, I should know more than I do as the writer, but alas, I don't.

 **\- Chapter 27  
** \- This is where after having a rough winter (as they always are. Seasonal depression stacks with the more typical clinical variety, so it's not fun) I hesitate on posting a new chapter because I'm obviously so rusty that it's all garbage.

\- There's not too much to note offhand here, I think.

 **\- Chapter 28  
** \- Okay, I'm sorry for the huge delays here. The stack-up of Seasonal and Major depression has been thoroughly kicking my butt. I've been stuck down hardly getting anything done for a while. Even when I *did* finish this chapter, it took me a while to work up the self-esteem to post it.

\- Things may be slow for a bit. Winter's proving hard to function during. I'll keep at it, though - I'm quite attached to this story!

 **\- Chapter 29  
** \- Well, things aren't dead. Truth be told, I wrote this one a while ago, I just figured I was so rusty that I'd have to re-write it all and scrap it and it'd be awful etc etc. As it turns out, I don't hate my writing _quite_ that much. Still, I kept putting it off, until now. This might be a recurring theme, whenever I'm not doing so well, but that's me and my stupid brain.

\- Koishi here is making me a little uneasy. I think things may get a fair amount worse before they get better.

\- This was _supposed_ to just be my fluff fic...


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